Category: Stories

Michael Poole, 69, from Lincoln has end stage kidney and heart failure and has written a collection of poems providing an honest and intimate insight into life as he faces the end.

First diagnosed in 1992, Michael has undergone three heart bypass operations before being referred to St Barnabas Hospice for their Day Therapy services eight years ago.

Michael said: “I was a little dubious at first as to how the hospice could help me because I thought they only cared for people with cancer. I couldn’t have been more wrong and I was pleasantly surprised to discover all the ways they were able to support me and my condition.

“St Barnabas has had a real and lasting impact on my overall wellbeing; they have taught me how to live as fully as possible with my condition. I have been given access to specialist physiotherapy, arts and crafts classes and joined the creative writing group.

“It was the art and creative writing group where I began to write poetry and I discovered that I could explore my feelings and express myself fully, in a way I was never able to do face to face. I have always written about what I know and this collection is the joys and struggle of my illness.”

Michael has written 51 poems to be collated in a poetry book with all proceeds set to go to St Barnabas Hospice.

Michael adds: “I hope that people in a similar situation to my own may be able to find some comfort in my words. Every poem has been written from the heart, I have laid myself bare in this book.

“There are poems about my health but also about the many nursing staff and volunteers I have met, they have all played an integral role in my life.”

Over the past eight years, Michael has had four poetry books published and raised over £1,000 for the hospice.

Michael concludes: “Without St Barnabas I wouldn’t be going out or doing much at all, they have given me real purpose and I have made some lifelong friends. And, I find real comfort in knowing that they will be there to support my wife when I am gone.

“I hope that my book will be able to raise some much needed funds for St Barnabas Hospice so that I can repay them for all they have done and will do for me and my family.”

The poetry book is priced at £3.50 and can be purchased from St Barnabas Hospice bookshops in Ruskington, Louth and The Forum in Lincoln.

Alternatively, contact the Fundraising department on 01522 540 300 or email fundraising@stbarnabashospice.co.uk

The son of a woman who died from lung cancer is preparing to cycle from Land’s End to John O’Groats in memory of his mum

Adam Lilley, 29, wants to raise at least £2,000 for St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice after they cared for his mum in her final days.

Jean Godber died on 19th November 2014 at the six-bedded community hospice at Grantham and District Hospital, aged 71.

Adam said: “It was a massive shock for us all when Mum was first diagnosed with lung cancer in 2012. She handled it all with such grace and had a fantastic attitude; she was determined to battle the cancer head on.

“And for a while this seemed to be working as the chemotherapy and radiotherapy drove the cancer away. “

After a year in remission, Jean began to feel unwell and in June 2014 she was told the cancer had returned and this time, it had spread into her back.

Adam recalls: “Over the summer her health became very unsettled and she spent a lot of time in and out of hospital. Admirably, she took it all in her stride and remained in good spirits, ensuring that she always had a smile for everyone that visited.”

In early November, Jean was admitted into the Hospice in the Hospital after receiving the sad news that the cancer was terminal.

Adam said: “It was such a heart breaking time for us all and so difficult watching her deteriorate but the homely feel of the hospice and the caring nature of the staff helped to make this time easier.

“I was overwhelmed at how well Mum was looked after and the staff always ensured that she was comfortable, nothing was ever too much trouble.”

After almost two weeks in the care of St Barnabas, Jean Godber died at the age of 71.

Adam said: “I was determined to do something to give something back to the hospice after they helped my mum through her final weeks. I have so much admiration for the staff that care for patients like my mum and I am so grateful for everything they did for her.”

Adam and a group of friends will start the 900-mile bike ride on 18th July, cycling from Land’s End to John O’Groats.

Adam said: “Training for the bike ride is quite a challenge and it is becoming ever more intense as the date draws closer. I am really looking forward to the experience even though I know there will be difficult moments.

“I think my mum would be really proud and knowing that this would have made her smile is what will keep me going.”

The money Adam and his friends raise will go towards the care and support of patients and their families who are living with a life-limiting illness in Lincolnshire.

The unit in Grantham and District Hospital is the first of its kind in the county and has cared for more than 250 patients since it opened in September 2014.

Adam concludes: “The loss of my mum has been the hardest thing I have ever had to deal with and I am still adapting to life without her. This bike ride is a wonderful opportunity for me to remember my mum and I know that wherever she is, she’ll be smiling down on me.”

Cathy Andrews, 61, from Hackthorn in Lincolnshire worked as an Assistant Cook for St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice when she was diagnosed with bowel cancer.

After a course of treatment and a failed colostomy Cathy received the most devastating news of all, the cancer was terminal and she had just two years to live.

Cathy said: “From the very beginning I had an instinctive feeling that something just wasn’t right and I suspected cancer all along. I am no stranger to the disease, my father, mother and husband all died from cancer and working at the hospice has opened my eyes even wider.

“It still doesn’t make the news easier to hear, but I was determined to live each day to the full and to spend as much time as possible with the people I love. It was then that I began to think about early retirement but, I was worried about how I would cope financially.

“Living with a terminal diagnosis is stressful enough without the additional burden of money worries. But with the help of the Welfare Benefits team at St Barnabas that worry was taken away.

“Their wealth of knowledge about the complexities of the benefits system was astounding and they were able to help me fill out the forms and make the necessary phone calls on my behalf.”

With the help of the team at St Barnabas it wasn’t long before Cathy began to receive her weekly payments.

“The wonderful thing about the Welfare Benefits team is that they kept in regular contact and always followed through with their promises. If they said they would call you back at a certain time, they actually did. I know it sounds small but reliability is really important at a time when everything around you seems uncertain.

“Their continued support also meant that they were able to identify that the benefits I was receiving were incorrect and they were able to rectify this on my behalf. The money they were able to secure has made a real difference to my life; it is the difference between existing and really living.

“It has given me the freedom to be able to visit my children and grandchildren without the worry of how I will pay for it.”

Cathy concludes: “I can’t thank the team at St Barnabas enough for all their care and support. Their reassurance that they will help me through this challenging time made a real difference to me and my life. It is because of them that I am getting to spend what time I have left with the people who matter the most.”

Many people do not receive payments they are entitled to because they believe that their income or savings are too high. However, a lot of benefits are not means tested and can be paid regardless of financial circumstances.

For information and advice call the Welfare Benefits team on: 01476 513 544

A personal account of how one girl is learning to live with the grief of losing her beloved Nan.

It was the 9th of July at around 1am. That was it, the call I had been expecting for a while. The phone call to say the most beautiful, kind and bravest lady in my life had passed away.

I couldn’t sleep that night anyway. The evening before with all my family there at my parents’ house I took my Nan’s hand and kissed her forehead. That’s when I did my last ‘goodnight I love you’. I was a carer and I recognised the signs. I knew she didn’t have long. Earlier that day all the grandchildren sat upstairs with Nan, not much was said but tears flowed and hands were held, shoulders were cried on and hugs given.

It had been one hell of a year, from the day we heard the dreaded ‘C word’ we knew things were never going to be easy or the same again – Nan had been diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer.

After months in and out of hospital trying everything we could to make things comfortable, this brave lady decided enough was enough and she was going to stop chemotherapy and treatment. The treatment made her tired and drained; she didn’t feel well at all. It was her choice and we all supported her decision.

Nan was always a bubbly happy lady who loved life. She never complained about anything, well, apart from when the chippy forgot to put scrumps on her chips! She was always there for other people. Nan used to watch the soaps and make us all laugh because half the time she would watch them with her eyes shut – then deny being asleep! Bless her heart. I’d do anything to glance over at the sofa and see her snoring to Corrie. It’s the little things that you remember.

Nan was nursed at home with the help from district nurses, carers and us – her family. We were there twenty four seven. She became poorly very quickly towards the end. We knew it was coming, but no matter how many times I had seen it at work you never know how hard it is until you’re in that boat and it’s hard, extremely hard.

It was then that Nan decided she wanted to go into St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice inpatient unit on Nettleham Road in Lincoln.

I really didn’t know what to expect when I walked in there for the first time, but it was so fresh and clean and the staff were brilliant. They looked after Nan so well and not only that, they looked after all of us too. Even little things like making us a brew and taking the time to talk to us.

I will always remember the lovely garden and how on one sunny day I went out there to have some time alone. Everything just paused; it was like everything outside the ground of that hospice wasn’t there. It gave me a lot of time to think.

I cried for a while then walked in and sat with Nan and this ginger cat came in to visit and jumped on the bed. Nan loved cats. It was like a little home from home, the people were friendly and the surroundings were beautiful. It was lovely to know Nan was being looked after there.

Nan really appreciated what the staff did there for her and so did we, but after a while she decided she wanted to come home. I would go over and visit her everyday and just sit there talking to Nan. She wasn’t alone; all the family visited and tried to remain strong.

I remember getting the bus home one day and I instinctively knew something wasn’t right. When I got home Mum and Dad were both upstairs. One either side of Nan, holding her hand. As soon as I walked in I tried to say ‘morning Nan’ but just burst into tears. I went to the spare room and took five minutes to have a good old cry and pull myself together. I knew from the atmosphere and from Nan’s face it was nearly time.

We rang around the family who came to be by her side. We took it in turns to go upstairs to see Nan and to spend some time talking to her; she tried to speak back but didn’t make much sense. From working in care I had learnt that hearing is one of the last senses a person loses so we talked and talked knowing Nan would be listening.

My boyfriend came to pick me up, I was shattered and emotional and there was nothing more I could do. I went upstairs – I had a feeling it would be the last time. I stood over Nan, took her hand, kissed her forehead and said “goodnight Nan, it’s OK to go to sleep now”. I stood there for a while then kissed her goodbye again.

That was it, the last time. I had a feeling it was but it’s still hard leaving. That night I got the call.

I just sat up all night watching each hour pass and cried a lot. I was used to that by now, nearly every night I cried myself to sleep. Trying not to make a sound so I didn’t wake my partner up, the feeling of being alone and miserable. My cousin and her partner picked me up the next day and we went back home to my parent’s house.

The bed was empty, the window open, the chairs we had sat in the day before were empty. So far that was the worst day of my life – it had finally come to an end. In a way I was relieved, I didn’t want Nan to be gone, but she wasn’t suffering anymore, she was free. Free to be with Gramps.

I remember when I was young and my Granddad died. My Aunt said look up at the sky and the brightest star up there will be him.

I remember not long before that I had been away camping with my boyfriend and friends. We lay on the rocks down at the beach when one friend said: “just think we could be the only ones on this beach for miles, no one else just us” and for a while the world stopped. It was so peaceful.

We later looked up at the stars and I said to my friend, “I’m worried because when Granddad died they said to look for the brightest star, what am I going to do once Nan has gone do I look for two?”

He said: “no, the brightest star will be them both”. It sounds silly having conversations like that but it helped; I’ll never forget that random conversation on the beach.

I went outside the night Nan passed away and looked up at the stars and just smiled. It was a weird feeling, I felt guilty – guilty that I smiled. Then I thought about it, it was finally over. No more suffering for Nan and she would be up there with Granddad telling him all about us and watching Mrs Brown’s Boys with a cuppa.

The funeral was arranged and the songs chosen. Every time I hear White Flag by Dido or Bryan Adams’ Everything I do, I well up. But now they’re Nans songs, for a beautiful lady and it reminds me how strong she was.

It was only about a month later I realised I had grieved for Nan whilst she was still with us. She wouldn’t want to see me grumpy and emotional all the time, so with the help of loved ones and friends I pulled myself together. I started a new job and started planning things to do. I learnt a lot from the past year – it doesn’t matter how alone you feel or how much you want to shout and cry you still have people around you that care.

It may not feel like it but its true – everything thrown at you in life is a test and no matter how many times you cry you get on with things. I still have my odd days where I’ll just randomly sit and have a cry but that’s OK because I know they’re safe up there and I know I’m loved and I thank everyone that helped me.

A great grandmother who died from ovarian cancer will be among hundreds who will be remembered at this years Light Up a Life celebrations hosted by St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice.

Jo Love, 57, will dedicate a light on the Tree of Life to her Mum Jean DaSilva, 77, during the Lincoln celebration which will see hundreds of people take part in a torchlight procession on Tuesday 25th November.

Jo said: “In 2006 Mum was diagnosed with stage four ovarian cancer, she had already beaten the disease back in 1998, and the fact it had returned made it all the harder to accept.

“Mum managed quite well at first but by Christmas 2008 she had become very unwell and was taken into hospital. Despite the circumstances we all tried to remain hopeful that she would return home with help from a care package.

“However it soon became apparent that this wasn’t going to happen. She was continuing to deteriorate and it was suggested that she move to the hospice where she would receive dedicated care.

“It was like falling into a black hole. I heard the word hospice and I was frightened, really frightened. In my mind the hospice was a dark place where people went to die.”

Despite her fears Jo agreed and Jean was transferred to the specialist unit. What waited behind the hospice doors couldn’t have been more of a surprise.

Jo added: “The hospice was nothing like I had imagined. We were immediately put at ease by the warm and welcoming staff and Mum was given a lovely room that overlooked the garden. I felt safe here and knew that Mum was in the right place.

“Up until this point I had been living in denial about Mum’s condition and it was the staff who helped to prepare me for the fact the she only had a short time left to live. They supported me every step of the way as I vowed to stay by her side for every second she had left. The hospice became my home.

“The nurses were so kind and understanding, they became my friends, I felt I could talk to them about anything. Even when I found myself at my lowest ebb and I had to go to a separate room and just sob they picked me up again so that I was strong enough to carry on.”

Jean DaSilva died on 15th February 2008 after spending three weeks in the hospice on Nettleham Road in Lincoln.

“I knew the night before she died that she didn’t have long left. I sat awake with her all night and then was joined by the rest of the family the following morning. We were together as a family and as I held her in my arms she quietly slipped away.

“This was the end of such an awful time but I wasn’t quite ready to let go yet. The nurses were so sensitive to how I was feeling and they gave me some time alone with Mum, to hold her hand and say a final goodbye.”

Jo began attending the Lincoln Light Up a Life celebrations the Christmas after Jean had died. The annual event sees hundreds gather for hymns, carols and readings before a torchlight procession to Lincoln Cathedral for the switching on of the Tree of Life lights.

Jo said: “Light Up a Life has become such an important date in the calendar for me, nothing could keep me away. It’s such an incredibly moving event, everyone is there to remember someone special and there is real comfort in knowing you are not alone in the sadness you feel.

“Last year the procession stopped outside the hospice and we stood and sang carols to the patients who wrapped up warm and came out with the nurses. There was something very special about that moment; it simply took my breath away.

“It is truly awe inspiring to witness a sea of torchlight as far as the eye can see. Best of all I know my Mum would have loved the whole thing. She absolutely adored Christmas and in a way I feel a real closeness to Mum at the event. It’s just so her. I do it for her.”

Last year over 1,200 people turned out for the Light Up a Life celebrations and raised £35,000 for St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice.

Jo concludes: “It’s a sad time for anyone if you find yourself needing hospice care, but the hospice provides comfort and guidance through that sad time. It’s not a dark place at all and the time I spent there with Mum was so special.

“They didn’t treat her like she was just another patient, they treated her like the lady she was, and they treated her like she was special. I know that if I ever found myself in the position where I needed to use hospice services I wouldn’t be frightened at all.”

Light Up a Life celebrations are held across Lincolnshire with the flaming torchlight procession taking place in Lincoln.

Local wrestler Hayden Loeve, 31, better known as “Dutch” to wrestling fans, has raised £2,135 at a charity event he organised in memory of his mum.

The Lincoln Fight Factory Wrestling Heavy Weight Champion began planning the Body Slam to Cancer event the day after his Mum, Dee Mansell, died following a four year battle with cancer.

Hayden said: “Mum had always wanted to see me fight in the ring but sadly due to her illness she never got the chance. We had planned for her and a friend to come and watch but she was rushed into hospital where she died three days later.

“We had often spoken about putting on a show for charity as Mum was desperate to give something back to the people who had helped her through her darkest times. That’s why, alongside my wife and brothers, I threw myself into organising this event. I was determined to achieve Mum’s goals for her.”

Dee, 54, was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer in 2010 and despite being given the all clear the cancer returned. This time she had found a cancerous lump on her neck which had spread into her lungs.

Hayden said: “Even when Mum received the second diagnosis she remained positive and hopeful that she may get better. I had read enough on the internet to know that this outcome was very unlikely, but I didn’t say anything to her, I just let her enjoy the time she had left.

“Part of her enjoying the time she had left was the time she spent at St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice in Gainsborough. When the word ‘hospice’ was first mentioned it set alarm bells ringing in my head. I thought it would be like a care home, all doom and gloom and depressing.

“I couldn’t have been more wrong. The place was warm and welcoming, and the staff and volunteers went the extra mile to look after the entire family. It was a relief to know that Mum was getting the help she needed and that we would be involved in her care.”

Dee regularly attended the Day Therapy Centre in Gainsborough where she accessed complementary therapies, such as Indian Head Massage, Reiki and relaxation techniques.

Hayden said: “I remember speaking to Mum after she’d had a massage and she told me how good it had made her feel. She said she felt completely relaxed and at ease, which was a welcome relief from the side effects she was experiencing from her medication.

“Day Therapy also provided Mum with crucial social support. She had the opportunity to make new friends and speak to people in a similar situation to her own. St Barnabas played a crucial role in Mum’s journey, right until the end, and for that reason alone we were compelled to give something back.”

The Body Slam to cancer wresting event was held at Yarborough Leisure Centre on Friday 10th October and attracted an audience of over 350 people. The event saw support from wrestlers across the country who battled to win the Dee Mansell Charity Memorial Cup.

Hayden said: “We are so grateful for each and every person who helped to make this event a success. Everybody donated their time which meant as much money as possible went directly to charity.

“We are already in talks with St Barnabas for next year’s Body Slam to Cancer which we hope will be even bigger and better. The show helped us to grieve as a family and putting our efforts into something positive made us feel good again.

“I hope that we can create a lasting legacy to Mum. The strong, courageous and passionate woman who just wanted to give something back.”

Cathy Poulton, aged 73, from Bardney in Lincolnshire turned to St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice who transformed her caring experience.

Cathy Poulton has been the sole carer for her husband Ted, aged 78, for the past three and a half years. He requires daily care since the onset of dementia and the muscle wasting disease ataxia. Cathy herself has faced personal health struggles when she underwent surgery in 2010 to have a tumour removed from her pituitary gland, at the base of her brain.

Cathy said: “The tumour was discovered during a routine eye test and although I was worried at first it was soon removed successfully. However just seven days after the operation I began to suffer with sickness and I was readmitted to hospital were I learned I had suffered a bleed.

“The sickness soon passed but unfortunately the bleed had severely and permanently affected my eyesight, leaving me with little more than tunnel vision in my left eye. Despite all this I am grateful that the operation went well and I am even more grateful to still have some vision.

“It was crucial that I retained my mobility and independence, not just for myself but because keeping me well means I can continue to care for Ted.”

Despite only having partial eyesight Cathy cares for Ted alone. She does all the cooking, cleaning and household chores. She is also Ted’s emotional support as he struggles to understand and accept his conditions.

Cathy said: “The tragic part about these two conditions is that one progresses the other. They feed off one another and Ted has begun to deteriorate rapidly. He can’t be left alone for long, which means I can’t go out and see friends as much as I’d like. Ultimately, he relies on me entirely. Our whole lives are dictated by Ted’s illness.

“Ted doesn’t realise how bad he actually is. He doesn’t recognise that his behaviour is out of the ordinary. It’s sad really. There are times when he just sits in his chair staring endlessly out of the window for hours, his face expressionless and his eyes vacant. His behaviour can be very erratic, one minute he is completely on the ball and then the next he acts like a small child.

She added: “Caring full-time can often leave you feeling isolated and cut off from society. It is important to have someone who can meet you half way and support you. That’s where St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice has proven to be a lifeline.”

Cathy’s caring experience was transformed when she finally got support from St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice when she began accessing Day therapy in late 2013.

Cathy said: “I first learned how St Barnabas could help me at a brain tumour seminar I attended as there was a guest speaker from the charity in attendance. I had gone along with a friend who was insistent that I contact St Barnabas as she recognised that they might be able to support my role as a carer. Although a little hesitant I followed her instruction and made an appointment for a consultation.

“That was last October and I have been attending on a weekly basis ever since. I was immediately struck by how helpful and empathetic the staff there are. They have helped to put my mind at ease by creating an emergency carer’s plan which details how Ted would be cared for if I became unwell.

“It has also been wonderful to have the opportunity to talk openly and freely; I don’t have to bottle everything up, and I know it sounds strange, but I could never speak to my GP like that. They have also been able to offer me advice on living with my own condition and have taught me how to overcome fatigue.

“Being a full time carer can be stressful and exhausting and I often find it difficult to relax. When I’m at home with Ted I’m always on edge, if he’s in another room I’m straining to listen out, worried that he may have a fall or need my help.

Cathy concludes: “Day Therapy offers me a tranquil environment and the chance to have time out from my everyday life. I am so grateful to the outstanding staff and volunteers I have met. I’d be absolutely lost without St Barnabas now.”

Terry Wright, aged 68, from Lincoln called St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice to help care for his wife Christine, aged 64, during her final twenty four hours.

After forty-six years of marriage, Terry and his wife Christine had shared many special moments together. They had two beautiful daughters and doted on their five grandchildren. In 2008 Terry noticed a sudden change in Christine’s behaviour, although not realising it at the time, this would be the beginning of a four year battle.

Terry said: “You just know when something’s not quite right and that’s when Christine confided in me that she thought she had breast cancer after finding a lump in her breast. Her Mother herself had died from the disease and this was the catalyst for Christine refusing to seek medical intervention, instead vowing to battle the cancer herself.

“I didn’t necessarily agree with her decision but at the end of the day it was her decision to make. Christine hadn’t been to see a doctor in almost twenty years and she was adamant that she wasn’t about to start. Along with the rest of the family I vowed to support her in any way we could, every step of the way.”

For the first two years Christine managed her symptoms well and continued to live a good quality of life with little disruption to her daily routine.

Terry said: “By 2010 Christine’s condition and symptoms were beginning to worsen. She was losing weight which was affecting her ability to get about and she would often be left weak and listless. It was heart-breaking to climb into bed with the woman you love each night and watch her disappearing before your eyes as she slowly became nothing but skin and bone. With Christine refusing all outside help it was left to me and the family to care for her at home in the best way we could.

“By now she was becoming so weak that she could no longer get up without my help. Surprisingly in all this time she never complained once and the only medication she took was paracetamol and Rennies. If she was in any pain she certainly never showed it.”

By December 2012 Christine was housebound and the cancer had broken through her skin leaving her with an open wound. Realising that they could no longer cope alone Terry called St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice for help.

Terry said: “Two nurses arrived shortly after my phone call and immediately set about washing and changing Christine and making her as comfortable as possible. As soon as they arrived I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, just knowing that somebody was there to help was a huge relief. Christine was extremely poorly and I knew in my heart that we didn’t have long left together.

“The nurses returned later that day to ensure Christine was still comfortable and to reassure me that they were at the end of a phone if I needed them. Later that evening I climbed into bed with Christine for what would be the final time. She told me how she felt like she was letting everyone down, which of course I immediately refuted. Sadly those would be the last words I would ever hear Christine say, as she passed away a few short hours later.

“I know that Christine only received care from St Barnabas for one day but they really did make such a difference in her final hours, and two years on, they are still making a difference to me. The wonderful hospice at home nurses have been in regular contact and even send a card on the anniversary of Christine’s passing.”

Terry and his family are now active supporters of St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice and are heavily involved in many of the charity’s annual fundraisers.

Terry said: “The whole family has thrown themselves into fundraising for St Barnabas and we just want to raise as much money as possible and give something back to such a deserving organisation. What I like about St Barnabas is that the care is there when you need it the most and the people are so genuine.

Terry concludes: “It’s the small things that make the biggest difference, like they take the time to remember your name; it’s that level of personal care that really matters. Before Christine’s passing I didn’t know a single person at the charity but they have welcomed me with open arms. You never have to feel like you are alone; it’s just like being a part of one big family.”

Mick Orr, aged 65 and Amanda Orr, aged 56 from Cherry Willingham in Lincoln explain how St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice helped Mick return home following complications in his fight against cancer.

In April 2014, Amanda Orr, learned the devastating news that her husband, Mick Orr, had just a short time to live and as a result would be transferred to St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice inpatient unit, following a five-week hospital stay.

Only eleven months earlier Mick had been diagnosed with an aggressive and incurable form of prostate cancer which had led to him being hospitalised after collapsing at home.

Amanda recalled: “It was such a blow to think that this could be the end. That Mick was leaving me and our family after he had fought so hard. He underwent tests at the hospital which revealed he had suffered spinal cord compression from the secondary cancer in his bones and began a course of radiotherapy immediately.

“Unfortunately the spinal cord compression led to a host of complications and, over the course of five-weeks, his health deteriorated. It was then suggested we transfer to St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice.

“That was five-weeks ago and I am happy to say that Mick is still with us and he is in high spirits. People assume you come to the hospice to die but that is not always the case and certainly was not true for Mick. He has gone from strength to strength at St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice and, amazingly, he is being discharged next week to return home.”

During his stay at the eleven-bed inpatient unit on Nettleham Road in Lincoln Mick has received specialist patient-centred care that is bespoke to his needs.

Amanda said: “Mick has really benefited from the care of the specialist nurses and doctors at the hospice who are available to him twenty-four hours a day. Pain management has always been administered quickly and efficiently and this has ensured that Mick has remained pain free and comfortable. He has also had daily sessions with physiotherapists and complementary therapists who have worked to improve Mick’s mobility and to rehabilitate him.

“We have been so impressed with the quality of care Mick has received at the hospice; simply put it has been outstanding. The staff and volunteers here really go that extra mile, nothing is ever too much trouble, and all you have to do is ask. It really is home from home as best as it can be in this situation.”

Whilst at St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice Mick had a special ‘sail away’ party. Mick and his wife had been due to set sail on a cruise around Spain in mid May, as a late celebration for his 65th birthday, which had been postponed due to chemotherapy treatment.

Amanda said: “We had booked the cruise in December to celebrate Mick’s birthday alongside some of our closest friends. It was also an opportunity for Mick to say his final goodbye as it was likely that he wouldn’t see them again. However as the departure date grew nearer it became apparent that Mick wouldn’t be well enough to go, even after the progress he had made with St Barnabas.

“I wasn’t about to let this slip by unnoticed and with the help of our fabulous daughter Karen and the staff at the hospice we transformed his surroundings into a special ‘sail away’ party. We hung boat themed decorations around the ward, laid on champagne and canapés in the conservatory and set up a video link to our friends on-board the ship to toast them as they set sail.

“We had saved £600 spending money for the cruise but we have decided to donate it all to St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice as a way of repaying them for their first class care and support. Even our daughter’s dog was welcomed into the hospice to join in the various festivities. Just the week before we had all enjoyed an impromptu concert outside, from another patient and their band, and Mick was even able to be wheeled out onto the patio in his bed.”

Mick and Amanda have also utilised other services from St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice including welfare support and Advance Care Planning.

Amanda said: “Writing an Advance Care Plan was not easy or comfortable but it was necessary. It is a real comfort to know that when things get difficult Mick has already made decisions about the sort of care he is happy to receive and ultimately where he would like to be at the very end. This allowed Mick to take back some control over his cancer and leaves us free to enjoy the time we have left together.

“Mick’s continued positivity and the ethos at the hospice have taught us both that a cancer diagnosis doesn’t mean life has to just stop. If people could witness first hand what the hospice is really like, and how people with cancer and other terminal illnesses can be helped here, they wouldn’t hesitate to get behind their fundraising efforts. I have seen first hand how hospice care makes a remarkable difference.”

Amanda concludes: “It really is a cruel irony that St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice is reliant on charitable donations when it is such an integral part of our community.”

Since writing this article Mick suffered further complications and sadly passed away peacefully on Monday 2nd June 2014, pain free and in the company of his loving wife.

Lesley Markham, aged 63, from Lincoln was diagnosed with terminal liver cancer and was given just two years to live.

In 2012, Lesley underwent surgery to have her kidney removed after she was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. Despite a successful operation, just five months later in April 2013, a routine scan revealed Lesley had secondary liver cancer and she received the devastating news that she had just one or two years left to live.

Lesley recalled: “I wasn’t expecting to receive good news but I never expected to hear the word ‘terminal’ either. But with seven lesions on my liver and an even larger growth on my renal vein there was nothing more they could do. If they were to operate it was highly likely that I’d bleed to death.

“With no other options available to me I began palliative chemotherapy which is slowing the growth of the lesions. After all, I’m not ready to die yet. I still have things I want to do, people I’d like to meet and places I’d like to see. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve lived a full life with no regrets but I’d like to have just a little more time.”

In May 2013, Lesley was introduced to St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice when she attended their Day Therapy Centre in Lincoln. It was with the help of the hospice that she began to plan for the end of her life.

Lesley said: “During my initial visit I began to work with the healthcare professionals to produce my Advanced Care Plan. In a nutshell this is a document that details what treatments I am happy to receive, where I would like to be cared for and ultimately where I would like to die.

“It really isn’t as morbid as it might sound and actually it has been a real comfort to me. I can be confident that, even if further down the line I am unable to communicate, my wishes will still be carried out. Having an Advanced Care Plan has taken away some of the uncertainty and has given me some control back.”

The Day Therapy Centre in Lincoln is one of eight across the county which specialise in providing care and support to people who are seriously ill and at the end of life.

“At first, when St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice was mentioned I couldn’t understand how they could help someone like me. I thought the hospice is for people who are dying isn’t it? I mean, I know I’m dying but I’m not bed ridden or anything.

“I couldn’t have been more wrong and was surprised to discover the wealth of activities and therapies that were available to me. I have taken Reiki and T’ai Chi classes to help with relaxation and have regular meetings with the Occupational Therapist who has improved my sleep and helped me to control my anxiety which had often resulted in me waking in the middle of the night panic stricken that I was going to die.”

Lesley continues: “One of the worse things about having terminal cancer is that I had to give up my working life which meant having cancer could have been an extremely lonely experience. That is the beauty of Day Therapy, I am able to socialise with people who are in a similar situation to my own and, best of all, we can have real and honest conversations that are free from pity.”

St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice is an independent charity that cares for more than 6,000 people annually who are seriously ill and at the end of life. Each year they must raise £3.4 million in order to continue their provision of services county-wide.

Lesley said: “We need this hospice. You never know what’s down the road for yourself or a family member and without it who would offer so much love at the end? You are more than just a statistic in a bed; you are treated with genuine care and respect and that is why people should continue to support the hospice in any way they can.”

In addition to accessing the services at St Barnabas Lincolnshire Hospice as a patient Lesley also volunteers on a weekly basis and provides the fundraising team with administration support.

Lesley said: “I applied to become a volunteer because of all that they were doing for me. I was desperate to give something back to the people and organisation that had helped me at a time when I needed it the most whilst I was still fit and able to do so. Volunteering has allowed me to return to the workplace with flexibility and an understanding that on the bad days I don’t have to go in.

“Meeting the people who work behind the scenes, so to speak, further confirmed to me what a wonderful place the hospice really is. I haven’t met a single person here who doesn’t care; in fact, the people here go beyond caring. They rejoice with you when something goes well and offer support when times get hard.”

Lesley concludes: “It’s like the hospice acts as your very own safety net, with arms open wide and a reassuring touch of the shoulder that says ‘don’t worry, we’ve got you.’”