Life after death - July 2017

Hamish had gone. 

Within 1 hour of his death, his mother arrived with my best friend, Kerry and Jane.  I was amazed at how my closets and dearest came to support me.  I called my sister Emily at 8.15am, and she was at my house by midday.  I am truly grateful for this; I really am. 

Hamish's body didn't go until around 11 am.  We all had to clear the room while the undertakers took the body.  I can not remember what happened that day, apart from my sister cleaning the house and realised that I had not done any washing for a while.  I had no idea.  I had no support from his family; I was left to look after him alone.  No one offered to help clean, cook or anything.  Emily (sister) was so angry at this and could not understand why other members didn't do more.  Later I was called some of his family 'Just the Girlfriend', and I was not significant in his life.  None of us knew what the future held; I could well have married him, but an acknowledgement of what we had at the moment would have been a nice gesture.  I stayed by his side, and my life was on hold for months.  This hurt like hell.  Hamish and I did all the Christmas Shopping before he died, he chose the presents, and I wrapped and handed them out to all the family.  Some did not even get an acknowledgement. 

My dear sister Emily and Charlotte started to get the house in order and supported me that week.  It was time now to organise the funeral.  Thankfully this was easy as H, and I had already done this apart from the order of service photo.  His mother didn't like the picture I had to choose, so I let that one go.  Zach, at 16, was going to be a coffin bearer; I was not sure if he could emotionally handle this, so we needed a backup.  Natalie wanted it to be her brother-in-law, Emily's ex-husband, but I had already had a conversation with Hamish before his death, and he categorically did not want Keith to do this.  He felt it was a betrayal of Emily, his sister, which I understood, but I have never been forgiven for this. 

The funeral date had been set. 

I resumed regular Mum duties on the Saturday after his death and took Zach to his weekly football match.  I also had Luke with me; it was my first public appearance since Hamish died.  I had been getting pain in my right side for quite some time and had been to the doctor 4 times.  The day before, I had been to Basingstoke Hospital and saw a consultant who wanted to organise a CT Scan and felt it could be Ovarian Cancer.  However, this did not go in; I was still numb from the last week. 

During the football match, the pain got worse; one of the Mums recommended that I speak with 111.  After a few calls, the doctor wanted to see me at Basingstoke.  So I left the match and headed off.  The boys went back with Cathy, one of the football Mums.  I arrived at the hospital, and the doctor sent me straight up to ward C (this is the same word Hamish was admitted to a month earlier) with suspected Appendicitis.  Appendicitissultant I had seen the day before came and saw me.  He again felt it was ovarian.  I needed a CT Scan, but that was impossible until the next day.  The option was to stay overnight.  I didn't want to wait any longer than I had to, and I didn't want to put the boys through any more trauma.  There was enough trauma for one week.

At 8 am the next day, I was picked up by my neighbour Nicky.  I was taken straight to the CT Scanner.  Being first, it did not take long, and I was back in the wheelchair, being taken back to the ward.  On the return, the nurse asked how long the pain had been there?  I replied quite a few months.  She did say it was likely to be cancer.  I then heard a shout, Stella.  It was Hamish's palliative nurse.  I explained the goings-on and that they thought I had ovarian cancer.  I cannot remember her name, but she ran off with I will sort this.  You do not have cancer back at the ward.  The palliative nurse had speeded my results, and it was not cancer; it was acute Appendicitis.  Appendicitisgot it wrong.  I only stayed 24 hours; I could not stay any longer.  The hospital made me so anxious.  I need to get out. 

The following week we had the funeral.  The most significant part of the funeral that touched my heart was that 5 of Zachary's friends all turned up to support him.  Just beautiful.  They all walked in a line behind the Hurst to the grave.  We also had a fly-by with 2 small planes.  Hamish would have loved it.

 

Going back to 2017

This is a year I wish to forget. It was full of sadness. My life stopped that year. All a bit of a blur, really. 

In June, Hamish was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. A few months later, Hamish had a terminal diagnosis and had 3 - 6 months to live. He went through the treatment, but it did not impact his tumour. It, in fact, had spread more. The therapy took so much out of him; I believe he would live longer without the treatment. He was so poorly. We tried to make the most of the time left, but this was limited due to his illness. In October 2017, we decided to take a trip to Devon/Cornwall in the camper. It was about creating memories. On the first night, we parked at Widemouth Bay to watch the sunset. H didn't feel great, but we cooked dinner and watched the skies turn red. H was hooked up to morphine 24/7, so we didn't sleep together; I slept on top and on the settee bed. In the early hours of the morning, he became very ill. We went to Stratton Hospital, but nothing could be done, so a drive to North Devon Hospital (Barnstaple) was necessary. Hamish was admitted straight away. I stayed for a couple of days but had to get back to the boys. I had to leave him in Devon and then battle to try and get him back to Basingstoke. The stress of trying to get the NHS to organise an ambulance and drivers was a joke. It took 4 days for this to happen.

On this visit, we were given a terminal diagnosis. The Doctor walked in, didn't even sit down and very coldly told us that H might make it to Christmas if he was lucky. The tumour in his bowel had blocked the colon, and basically, no poo could pass. On the Friday, it was decided that he would need emergency surgery to fit a stoma bag the next day. The next day was Charlotte and Richard's wedding day. I could not miss my stepdaughter's wedding, so I decided to go. The guilt that I had for leaving him was just overwhelming. I was a total wreck on the wedding day, for which I feel very guilty. I should not have gone. Emotionally it was too much and not fair on C & R. I got a call mid-afternoon from Emily to say the operation had gone well and he was alive. I could not wait to get back to Hamish on the Sunday and got up and went back to Basingstoke. I was so pleased to see him. The love I have for this man can not be explained. 

Hamish was moved to the hospice to give me a break and recover from surgery. The medical team felt that this was better for him. He stayed there for 2 weeks, and I visited every day. We finally got him home towards the end of October. My sister Emily came over for a week and used the camper. On the last day, I got Hamish from the hospice to be at home for a few days. We all went for lunch. As Emily was leaving, she burst into tears and returned to say goodbye. It did not even trigger that she would never see Hamish again. I was numb and just looked on. 

The boys and I decided that Hamish would die at home and not in the hospice. Zachary was influential with his views. I am not sure if Luke even understood what was going on. The palliative care team set up care for H and supported me. I juggled caring for Hamish and work. I never left his side. I couldn't; it just felt wrong. Over the next two weeks, he slowly lost the use of his legs and became bedbound. We set up a bedroom downstairs when he came out of the hospital. It made life more accessible, and he felt part of the family. The next few weeks were tough for us both. A continuous stream of visitors was lovely in many ways but emotionally challenging. So many tears. I struggled as it was no longer my home but more like a hospital visiting the lounge, constantly making tea and working.

Over the last week, we spent time with the funeral directors and organised his funeral. What he wanted and what he didn't like. The hymns, the coffin, the coffin bearers. He even wanted to go to the Remembrance Sunday Service to check out the victor, which made me smile. Looking back, I am not sure how I felt apart from numbness. Nothing felt real  

It was also my son's 16th Birthday. Zach adored Hamish; they were so close. He wanted to be part of my children's lives and was such a good father figure. 

Hamish and I went to the garden centre on Friday to break from the house. This was when his swallowing function started to stop. I fed him his soup, but every time he swallowed, he would cough. It got worse over the 24 hours. On Saturday, the nurses told me his body was starting to shut down, and it would be up to 5 days before he died. His memory started to go as well, and he couldn't remember the nurses' names. This really impacted him, and he burst into tears. 

I slept on the camp bed next to his holding his hand.   We had the house to ourselves. The following day was Remembrance Sunday. H wanted to go to the church service in Odiham. I have no idea how carers manage and get people ready and into cars. It was exhausting. Lifting, carrying and organising. We got to the church and positioned ourselves at the back. I stood behind Hamish with my hand on his chest. A lady looks at him and then at me with such sadness. I knew exactly was she was thinking. At the end of the service, we lined up and said hello to Vicar. We had a joke at the entrance and told her that she had passed her interview. The Vicar said I will be in contact over the next few days to finalise the funeral details. I did explain that the nurses said he has no longer than 5 days to live. She comforted me and said it would be okay, and we had time. The family all headed over to the Bel & Dragon for lunch. Hamish was very weak. We did not stay long. Paul, his brother-in-law, offered to help me back to the house with him. This was a relief as I was pretty exhausted, physically and mentally. Having an extra pair of hands made such a difference. Back at the house, we put him to bed, by which time the rest of the family came over. We were playing the waiting game. Just waiting. Eventually, everyone went apart from Emily. We had a quiet evening, and all slept downstairs. 

It was about 5 am, and I woke up to Hamish's hands being very sweaty. The nurse had already told me that this was one of the signs that he was going. I woke Emily up, and we sat beside him on either side. At about 6, he started to become restless and wanted to go outside. He tried to get up. Emily and I moved his legs to the side to get him into the wheelchair. He then became dizzy and decided it was not such a good idea. The only issue was that he was halfway down the bed, and neither Emily nor I had the strength to lift him up. I sent a quick text to the neighbours. Peter and John came to help and pull him up from the bed. We could not have done this without the two of them. Hamish could no longer speak, and I could see in his face that something was wrong. I asked him if he was in pain and to raise his hand. He did. I called the Doctor to try and make him more comfortable. This was about 7.40am. The Doctor came and increased his morphine. The next event should not have happened, and I regret allowing it. I had ensured that neither of the boys was at the house that weekend.

I just didn't want them to see the final stages of Hamish's life. Zachary turned up at the house at 7.50am, wanting his school bag. I have no idea why my ex-husband allowed this to happen, but he did. I kept telling Zac, why are you here? You shouldn't be here. Finally, I explained to Zach that he was going and that would he like to say goodbye. Zach walked into the room, kissed Hamish on the forehead, told him he loved him and went to school. Zach had his mocks that week and went off to school as usual. I look back and admire him so much he could have just gone back to his Dad's, but he didn't. He went to school. 

The Doctor tried to make Hamish comfortable and wanted to inject him with more morphine, but this would make him unconscious. Emily and I both wanted him to go peacefully, so we agreed to this happening. It only took a few minutes for him to pass. He took 3 last breaths, and the Doctor confirmed that he had gone at 8.10 am.  Hamish died 10 days off his 24th Birthday. My feelings were so mixed. Some were of relief and some of the pure grief. 4 years on, I still see his face and the last hour I play back in my mind so many times, it will never leave me. 

It is time

It has been a long time since I added to this blog, and I have now decided it is time.  I always intended to write a book but have not got around to it.  The title is WTF. Some might say I attract drama, but I can honestly say I do not do it on purpose.  Some say I am jinxed; who knows.  So I will go back a few years and tell my story.  I will date the entries by the month and the year and try and keep them for you to read. 

It is a story and strength, loss and love. Hopefully, it will inspire you to keep going. 

Ups & Downs - 4th July 2017

4th July 2017

We have had a good few days.  A long day on Saturday with friends and a family BBQ. A very wonderful day and at the same time a sad day.  Most of Hamish's family joined us and we all spent the day eating and drinking. He made a lovely speech made most of us cry, well I sobbed, but that is quite normal for me.  Quite strange when everyone left, the feeling of H maybe never seeing them again.  He was so amazingly strong and composed himself so well.  I am so very proud of him.

It is so strange, I know that everyone is sending him so much positive energy and prayers, but he seems to be doing really well.  It is like the cancer has retreated.  He is no longer on the morphine, and reduced the codine to one a day.  Evanda is sending him healing.  There is no way that the chemo would work so quickly.  Just no way.  Maybe Evanda's healing is working. It does make me feel very uneasy as things getting better before getting worse.  Putting us into a false sense of security. who knows.  Just enjoying H so much.  We have had such a good few days we really have.

Devastated 4th July 2017

27th June 2017

3 weeks ago, Hamish got some devastating news. I just thought this would never happen to me or anyone I was with.

He has been diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer in the bowl and secondary in the liver.  They have said that if the chemo works he has 2/3 years and if not months. They could operate on his liver, but there is too much cancer in there and they will not operate until one section is clear.   I am not sure it has really gone in, still in shock and coming to terms with this news.

I still cannot believe this. If you look at him, he looks good, those beautiful blue eyes are still alive and fighting fit but inside the shell, he is a mess.  The is no truer expression than "you can never tell a book from its cover".

He started his treatment last Friday and yesterday had to go back into hospital as he was so ill. Still there as I write this and selfishly, I am glad he is there last night and tonight. It means I can catch up on sleep. I worry constantly about him, he is never far from my thoughts and in meetings, I try desperately to focus.  I know I should take some time out, but work has always been my saviour.

We are only 3 weeks in and I am absolutely exhausted. The lack of sleep is getting to me. I now have total respect for Mothers, Daughters, Sons, Fathers, Friends and carers who look after their loved ones full time. I am desperately trying to juggle a full-time job, 2 boys and care for Hamish, shit it is so hard.

It is so hard to get your head around that he is potentially dying and might not be here for his 45th birthday.  I am positive don't get me wrong and in the normal Stella fashion I am pushing forward and looking to our future and we talk about the other end of this.

Some days I cry, some days I sob, for both me and him.  I have had to revisit so many memories, it has been so tough.  I cried more over the last few weeks than I have done in years.  I have also had the dilemma of telling my gorgeous boys, I kept it a secret for 2 weeks, but my eldest could see how ill he is and in front of my youngest.  "Is he going to die Mum?" I cannot lie to him, I told them both what the doctors told us.  Zach broke down, He is also having to deal with emotions that he didn't deal with when I was ill. He cried and said I can't, I can't bring them up, then closed up and smashed a football into his goal.  Luke didn't really understand and said "why is it worse than you Mum?"  It just is Luke, 10 times worse than Mummy.  He is asking himself questions of why?  The next day he refused to go to school.  We both ended up at the school gates crying and him pleading with me that he wants things back to normal. Just heartbreaking. Not sure why so many tears are being shed in our house and why this happens not once, but twice in the space of 3 years under the same roof.

Hamish is being so gallant, so brave and still smiles.  He is amazing and positive, but I know he is absolutely terrified. We talked on Saturday about him dying and how it wants to be buried with his Dad.  Shit, what a conversation to have with your loved one.  I had to stay strong, but the minute he went around the corner I totally broke down. Fucking crap that it has taken me so long to find someone so wonderful and kind and he potentially is going to be taken from me.

Worry

Well, I can honestly say I have felt better.

Tomorrow I go under the knife again, which is scaring the hell out of me.  I am positive and not thinking about it, but it doesn't mean the feelings are not there. I have had to wait since early December for a date to come through, the waiting I hate.  Even tomorrow i might not know more than today.  Not sure if they will take my ovaries out or operate again, the unknown just drives me mad.  If there is something there I will have to wait again and have another operation.  Hate this bit, just hate it.

Over christmas was really tough, no work to occupy my mind and keep me busy.  I have cried, I sat with Em and cried, we talked about the what if's and I know I will just take it all in my stride, but the thought of having to go through all of that again makes me so sad.  It has been harder this time to push the negative thoughts back and stay on track with the positive thinking.  I am showing symptoms of ovarian cancer, but this could also be the cyst that is causing them.  All I can do is pray that it is the cyst.  We all know that secondary cancer is deadly.  I spend so much energy pushing thoughts back and trying to change my thought pattern, it does get the better of me on occasions and then I find myself just crying my eyes out. This weekend I have been up and down and this morning I was being very ratty and just went for a run.  Bongo protested all the way and really wasn't in the mood for exercise.  He does make me smile the way he just sits in the middle of the path and refuses to go any further.

I do pray that I will not be stripped of everything again, I think I have had a hard enough lesson the last time and sure don't think I deserve it again.  I wonder what I have done to deserve this.  People talk about karma, but not sure it is right for everything. I am a good person, I do think about other people, so why do I have to go through all these health scares.  Okay, I work hard, but I really do think I manage it well.  I get stressed, I am learning to manage that too.

I haven't told the boys, don't want to worry them.

Complicated

I sometimes feel that my life is so complicated, I want it to be simple, but it never seems to happen.

Not sure whether I mentioned this in the last blog, but the doctors have decided to operate and look into the cyst they have found on my ovaries.  So many different feelings.  One trying to control my fear, pure fear and just keeping positive.  I find myself holding back the tears 90% of the time.  Just a waiting game now, waiting for a week for my appointment to come through.  I hoped it would be before Christmas, but not sure that is going to happen now.  I hate the waiting, just hate it.  Everyone tells me to stay positive which I am, but boy it is hard work.  My biggest fears are there and controlling them is just awful.

I went away for the weekend and forgot my tablets, you really don't realise how much you mind puts on them.  I just couldn't go the weekend without taking them.  It really played on my mind and I kept telling myself that, don't be silly it won't come back overnight, but no matter how much you convince yourself it is there.

I have eczema on my eye, which I am sure it is because of stress and nothing seems to be making it go.