BILL TURNBULL: I try to have a moment of joy every day… but sometimes I just howl like a child

When Bill Turnbull appeared beside Susanna Reid on breakfast television this week, he urged her: ‘Pinch me. Go on, pinch me. I can’t believe this is really happening.’

Those of us who know what the broadcaster has suffered in recent years were similarly incredulous.

Four years after stepping down from BBC Breakfast, Bill, now 64, had incurable prostate cancer diagnosed in November 2017. The ‘pernicious’ (his word) disease had spread to his spine, ribs, pelvis, hips and legs. He was riddled with it.

Four years after stepping down from BBC Breakfast, Bill, now 64, had incurable prostate cancer diagnosed in November 2017. Pictured: Bill on Good Morning Britain on Wednesday

When Bill Turnbull appeared beside Susanna Reid (together left) on breakfast television this week, he urged her: ‘Pinch me. Go on, pinch me. I can’t believe this is really happening’

As he says: ‘One of the consultants said, “Bill, you do have a lot of disease.” I said, “I know. Thank you for pointing it out to me.”

He laughs.

After nine gruelling rounds of chemotherapy, the cancer is being kept in check with various treatments, including hormone therapy and radium injections to attack the tumours in the bones.

‘You get pain flares from that,’ he says. ‘If it hurts and goes away, I know what it is. It’s when you get a pain you don’t understand you can get scared.

‘But it’s been pretty effective for me over the past six months. My PSA (prostate-specific antigen — the protein doctors monitor for signs of the disease) has been coming down each month since the chemo, until last month when it didn’t come down at all. We’re waiting to see what happens.

‘It’s upsetting when the PSA level goes up. It’s like a jury coming back and saying, “No, you’re more ill than you thought you were”.

‘But all my blood markers are stable and when I had my last scan in August there had been no new tumour activity since April 2018, so we’ve got the brakes on for the time being.’

Bill is a warm-hearted, funny man who loves life and worships his wife Sarah (pictured together in 2007)

Bill is a warm-hearted, funny man who loves life and worships his wife Sarah (pictured together in 2007)

Bill is a warm-hearted, funny man who loves life and worships his wife Sarah and children Henry, 32, Will, 31, and Flora, 28. He was initially told he could expect to live for ten years.

Telling his family he had incurable cancer was, he says, ‘very hard’.

‘You’re inflicting pain on them. Personally I can deal with it but seeing them upset was horrible.’ He wells up and blames the hormone treatment for making him emotional.

‘Most of the time I’m fine, but every once in a while you have a dip,’ he says. ‘You have a really bad day and howl like a . . . I was going to say like a child, but it’s even worse than that.

He goes on: ‘If Sesi (his pet name for his wife) is there with me, it’s fine because I can lean on her. She helps me. I hate being on my own now. It gives you too much time to think and you can talk yourself into a dark place.

‘I sometimes think, what must it be like for people who don’t have anybody in their life who get diagnosed with cancer?

‘If you have somebody else with you, particularly someone who loves you truly, madly, deeply, with whom you’ve been for more than 30 years, you can laugh and cry with them. They distract you in many ways. If you have nobody, that’s pretty tough.’

Bill wells up and presses his palms together to try to compose himself. ‘I’m going to tear up now. I’m so sorry,’ he says, before pushing on.

‘There was something I read in a book about people who have overcome cancer — it said you need to have a moment of joy every day. So I go up to her and…’ Bill claps his hands, taps his feet on the floor and chants “moment of joy, moment of joy” to demonstrate.

‘We go through it together. It has brought us even closer than before. We laugh a lot —– most of the time. And work is also a distraction.’

Bill, who hosts a radio show on Classic FM, leapt at the chance to appear on ITV’s Good Morning Britain with his former BBC co-host Susanna.

‘Anything that gives you something else to think about is good. I do find it really dreary and exhausting to be conscious that the cancer is there every day, even if you’re feeling well. I’d like to wake up in the morning and go through a day where it didn’t always pop up and go, “hiya”.

‘Work helps. Classic FM has been like Doctor Radio when I’ve not been entirely well. Sometimes I’d wonder if I could do it, but Sesi would get me to the studio, my light would come on and I’d have to do it. I’d feel better at the end of the programme.

‘I like being at work and the telly thing with Susanna this week was just a treat. When she asked last year if I’d come back and present with her if Piers [Morgan] wasn’t there, it was a no-brainer. She’s an old friend. The idea of presenting together again — even once — was a laugh.

Cancer has changed Bill.

When he retired from BBC Breakfast four years ago, he was tired. He’d ‘had enough and wanted to leave it all behind’. Now every moment of life is a joy.

He says: ‘The things you thought were important aren’t really. You do see things more intensely and start to look at things you might not have done otherwise, because you realise there’s more to life than rushing from A to B to do C.

‘I don’t take life as seriously as I used to. I feel my foot is right off the gas now, which is a nice way to be. It’s a lighter way of looking at the world.

‘There’s a huge old beech tree in the garden. I look at it every day when I get up. There are no leaves on it so you can see hundreds and hundreds of tiny branches. The tree is different every day in the way it moves and how it looks. I take that in. I think, “How did that happen? The design of it is just so wonderful.” ’ He laughs again.

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