50mething (from darkness) : Slowly through the night.
- Paul jenner
- Nov 21, 2025
- 3 min read
Updated: Nov 24, 2025
Trigger Warning: This post contains references to cancer diagnosis, surgery and treatment, which some readers may find distressing.
Welcome to a refreshed website and, in many ways, a refreshed perspective. At the start of 2024, just as I was beginning to imagine the possibility of earning an income from the music I’d written, sung and recorded, life took a very unexpected turn. A mole on my back, one I’d knocked at work, became detached and wouldn’t heal. After a GP appointment and a referral to dermatology at West Middlesex Hospital, it was removed and biopsied.
Melanoma.
A word that lands hard, even when you think you’re prepared.
Like many people in their younger years, I wasn’t shy about the sun, and I can’t help wondering if that played its part. But once the diagnosis arrived, there was no time for what-ifs. The next stage was treatment at the Royal Marsden in Chelsea.
The plan was straightforward on paper: remove more skin around the original site and biopsy a lymph node under my arm. But melanoma rarely follows a neat script. Scans continued, and concerns grew about swelling and scar tissue in my armpit — an area full of lymph nodes and a common pathway for melanoma to spread. A further biopsy confirmed more cancer.
Surgery to remove the entire field of lymph nodes was scheduled. I had a long, honest conversation with a nurse about possible post-surgery complications. Lymphoedema was mentioned, something I thought would be my main hurdle.
I was wrong.
The day before my operation, the surgeon called. The hospital was running a clinical trial and a place had opened. I said yes immediately. It felt like a lifeline.
The surgery went ahead; 56 lymph nodes were removed, a record for the surgeon, and a tumour on my back was left in place so they could monitor how the new treatment worked. From these nodes, scientists created tumour infiltrating lymphocytes; T-cells grown in the lab and trained to recognise and attack cancer cells in my body.
In August 2024, I was admitted to the Marsden for over two weeks. The process began with chemotherapy to reduce my existing white blood cells, followed by an infusion of the new T-cells. Staff told me to expect a rash and a temperature.
Instead, the morning after the infusion, as my consultant and nurse came in to check on me, I had a sudden seizure. A scan later showed two lesions on my brain... something no one expected given how well I had felt throughout the process.
Nearly a year on, the picture is cautiously hopeful.
The tumour on my back has significantly changed. Older moles blistered, crusted, and faded. Every six weeks I receive immunotherapy, along with antiviral and anti-seizure medication. Swelling around the brain lesions has resolved, and although the lesions remain, they have not grown.
My hair grew back white, a side effect of treatment affecting pigmentation. A small price to pay.
Through all of this, the staff at the Royal Marsden have been extraordinary. Their skill, empathy and calm have carried me through some of the darkest and strangest moments of my life.
And so, as a testament to what I’ve been through, and in deep gratitude to the team who have looked after me, I’ve written and recorded a new piece of music.
Download the zipped file above for a sample of the track 'Slowly Through the Night' which is one of eight tracks on the EP 'Things I did on my day off'.
This EP is a selection of music from four previously unreleased albums to be made available in 2026.
I remain ever grateful to the staff at the Marsden, in particular a certain senior staff nurse from Poland.
Thank you for your continued support and for being part of a community that values meaningful, impactful music.
With gratitude, 50mething
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