I would lose my path netball commentating. Doctors found a tennis ball sized tumour on my brain

Initially he decided my symptoms were “innocent” but that was because I hadn’t told him everything. I didn’t really mean to make things sound better than they actually were, but part of me was scared anticipating the outcome.

When I returned home after that appointment my husband and sister-in-law, who happened to be staying with us, put me in my place. They made it very clear I HAD to paint the whole picture. I made another appointment with the neurologist a week later, and this time my husband came with me.

At this stage in the story, I have to acknowledge how fortunate I am to live where I do. Auckland’s North Shore - medical specialists I could walk to and easy access to all levels of healthcare. I am very aware this would not have been so easy if I lived in provincial New Zealand.

During the second neurologist appointment, and thanks in no small part to encouragement by my husband, I was referred for a CT scan on March 3. That showed the tumour.

The 36 hours between the scan and the third appointment with the neurologist were awful. I knew the technologist had seen something because she slid me out relatively quickly, saying she had to check with the specialist to see if they wanted to use a “contrast”. That’s a liquid injected to improve the clarity of the image. I also understood why she couldn’t tell me any details about what she’d seen, as that wasn’t her job. That walk home was one of the longest of my life. I was convinced I was heading for early-onset dementia or an inoperable malignant tumour. I told my husband he was going to be a widower.

My state of mind wasn’t helped a few hours later, when the neurologist’s office called asking if I could come in the very next afternoon. In my mind, that sealed it - I was doomed.

I’ve always been good at compartmentalising things so while all this was going on, I continued to work, grateful for the distraction. The job of a radio sub-editor is to correct the copy and compile bulletins. It’s fast-paced and requires a decent amount of concentration. I love it. So on that day, March 4, I went to work as usual, drove home as usual, and had my daytime sleep as usual. We waited for 5pm to come round.

I was straight away encouraged by the neurologist’s demeanour, which appeared to me to be relatively buoyant. He wasted no time in telling us I had a meningioma - a non-malignant tumour - the size of a tennis ball pressing on my brain. The plan was to undergo surgery to remove it as quickly as possible. When the neurologist explained what the situation was, and showed us the scan on his laptop, there was in a weird way an incredible sense of calm. We had an explanation, and there was a plan of attack.

The first thing I did was contact the company won the contract to be host broadcaster for the Commonwealth Games, and explained my situation. Saying “I need brain surgery” is a compelling argument to pull out of your contract and they were very supportive.

Things progressed quickly, and I saw the New Zealand health service at its best. Pre-op appointments were made with anaesthetists and surgeons. The pre-op meeting with the surgeon was sobering. For my family in particular it was scary. They laid out the chances of me dying on the table, of losing the use of my legs, or losing speech. It was also made very clear that surgery was essential.

I was wheeled into the operating theatre at Auckland City Hospital on March 24 for surgery that lasted seven hours.

I believe these situations are easier on the person at the centre of what’s going on than those around them. I never actually doubted my surgery would be successful, but I totally understand how hard it is to watch someone you love go through it.

I have to mention the hospital staff. From surgeons to cleaners they were outstanding. Nothing was ever a problem, despite it being patently obvious they were at times under immense pressure. I spent a few days in the High Dependency Unit and then went out to the Neurosurgery Ward for the rest of my nine-day stay. Hospital food often gets such a bad rap, but I found it varied and plentiful.

Just in time for Easter, I was discharged. It was the most wonderful feeling to be home. Our London-based daughter was back, and one of our sons who also lives there, was coming in a couple of weeks. Our son who lives here and the rest of my family were regular visitors. I’m very aware of how lucky I am to have them.

What followed was three months of recuperation. In the beginning I could barely manage a walk around the block, but that steadily increased with time. Indoor basketball is off the cards for now, no contact sport, but we’ve become regulars at the AUT gym with its Never2old programme.

The other thing that happened during my time away from work was I turned 65. I’m not able to drive for six months after surgery, in case of a seizure, so I have become a fixture on the buses. And never mind going to Waiheke Island with my gold card, I went to Pukekohe on the train.

The next challenge was planning my return to work. NZME and particularly NewstalkZB have been terrific in accommodating this. Obviously before the surgery no one knew how it would turn out. Could I even work again in such a fast-paced environment or would it be all too much for me? I’m now several weeks in, and am pleased to say I am loving being back.

I am sorry not to be making it to Glasgow for the Commonwealth Games. I’ve commented on netball at every games and the Netball World Cups since 2007 and this one was going to be my swan song. But the overarching feeling I have is one of immense gratitude for those almost 20 years calling the game I love. I’ve had a blast and made friends around the world, so I shall be more than happy to watch the Silver Ferns from afar.

But that sense of gratitude is far bigger than just netball. It’s for all the people who have restored me to my old self. Those in the health service, friends, workmates and family have all played their part and I wouldn’t be here without them. I’ll be scanned every 12 months to check on what’s going on in my head - hopefully very little!

Jenny Woods is a sub-editor at Newstalk ZB and has been a Sky Sports netball commentator for the past 20 years.

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