Lucy Woolnough - Patient Relative

“Hospice is a place to say goodbye, but it’s also a place where you can leave feeling you are ready again to say hello. Hospice has my heart.”

“Cancer isn’t like it is on screen. Cancer isn’t a dramatic moment where a beautiful person is faced with a brutal truth, and faces it with a bold and beautiful face. If it was, I wouldn’t be writing this; my mother would; (she was the brave and beautiful one).

Cancer can be a like a tide, that slowly and gradually ebbs away: ebbs away at person you once admired, respected, turned to, loved even. That tide can also ebb and push at those, or that person, who takes responsibility for the administration and management of the patient. You feel like a foreign language student who joined the class too late, you make decisions based on love, google and hope; you hopelessly try to sleep and constantly revise your notes for an exam you hope you will never sit. And then one day you, like me, if you are reading this, you will hear the words: “you should think about a referral to Hospice”: And although this may be final decree, the beginning of an end, a stage you were not quite ready for, these words for me became a life line.

Hospice is a call from someone who cares and says “you are doing a great job, Lucy”. Hospice is a sounding board when you doubt all the decisions you’ve tried to help your family make. Hospice is a weekly visit to an overwhelmed 82 year old as he struggles as his wife of 50 plus years dissolves.

Hospice is a blanket, a connection with a nurse, a plate of sandwiches, a “goodnight love”, a decent coffee, as you spend several days saying goodbye. Hospice is a nurse who calls your dying mum by her name. Hospice is doctor who takes the time to ensure you understand.

Hospice is a place to say goodbye, but it’s also a place where you can leave feeling you are ready again to say hello. Hospice has my heart.”