As youngsters, twins Bart and Boudewyn Couprie shared the usual childhood illnesses – colds, flu and chickenpox – so when Bart was diagnosed with prostate cancer, the second person he called after his partner was his twin brother.
Two years on, Boudewyn is only half joking when he calls Bart his “canary in a coal mine” – and credits Bart with saving his life.
Bart’s diagnosis with a very aggressive cancer came just months after meeting his now-wife Jude Fippard. The Whangaparaoa couple, who both have adult children from previous relationships, met online in 2013. They chatted for months before their first date, but “hit it off” straight away, tells Bart.
Within the year, they were talking about moving in together, trialling the concept with a holiday in Rarotonga. Life was good.
Jude and Bart.
But returning home, Bart, a chief petty officer with the New Zealand Navy, realised something wasn’t quite right. He was having difficulty urinating, the flow was weak and his bladder never felt properly empty.
With Jude’s encouragement, he scheduled a doctor’s appointment. He had a digital rectal examination and blood tests.
“That was a Friday,” he says. “The following Monday, the doctor called me and said, ‘You need to get here now!’”
His prostate specific antigen level (PSA) was 68. For someone of Bart’s age – he was 47 – the normal range is less than 2.5. A biopsy subsequently revealed Bart had “aggressive” stage three prostate cancer that was inoperable and would need equally aggressive treatment.
The diagnosis prompted Jude (52), whose own dad had died of heart disease at just 60, into action. She insisted they move in together so that she could look after Bart, now 50.
“I just thought, if you’re going to take someone for the good and the bad, you love the person, you don’t love them just because they’re well,” she says.
Meanwhile, Boudewyn, who lives in Wellington, didn’t hesitate after that phone call from Bart. Explaining his brother’s situation to his GP, he was immediately sent off for a blood test, which revealed slightly raised PSA levels, and a biopsy.
Despite no symptoms, Boudewyn also had cancer.
“It was low grade, but cancer is cancer,” he recounts.
He was given the option of “active surveillance” with regular tests, or surgery – a radical prostatectomy. After discussing it with his wife Ainsley, he opted for the latter.
Boudewyn and wife Ainsley.
“At the same time, there was the consideration of the risks of surgery,” he says. “I had to deal with the possibility that the procedure might leave me impotent and incontinent. There was about a 30 per cent chance of that.”
Fortunately, the procedure went well and within five weeks, things were back to normal.
Bart is now into the final stages of a three-year course of hormone treatment – a gruelling regime of three-monthly injections followed by radiation therapy. It has left him with a litany of side effects ranging from an “absolutely tanked” libido to hot flushes, “anywhere up to 15 or 20 a day”, along with mood swings, depression and anxiety attacks.
Still, he has tried to remain positive and his selection to participate in the Invictus Games – an international sporting event for wounded, injured and sick servicemen and women – was a highlight last year.
“I was sitting on a bus with a guy and he asked me what I was there for. I told him I had prostate cancer and he said, ‘Oh, mate, that’s just horrible. I don’t know how you can cope with that’.
“This guy stood on a landmine in Afghanistan – he lost his legs and an arm, and he was feeling sorry for me!”
Despite the loss of physical intimacy, Bart and Jude agree the experience has brought them closer together. They were married last September in a ceremony at the Devonport Naval Base.
Jude and Bart tied the knot last year.
Both couples are adamant that men need to “get over themselves” when it comes to looking after their health.
Jude speaks for them all when she says, “It is so frustrating that guys won’t go and get checked because they are so fixated on not having a finger up their bum. For God’s sake, women get terribly invasive tests done from a very early age – we get our boobs squished, but we do it because we know we have to.
“People say you can’t die of embarrassment. Well, with prostate cancer, you can.”
