This article is from the source 'guardian' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.
You can find the current article at its original source at https://www.theguardian.com/healthcare-network/2018/feb/01/nhs-staff-helped-me-survive-losing-my-seven-year-old-daughter-to-cancer
The article has changed 2 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.
Previous version
1
Next version
| Version 0 | Version 1 |
|---|---|
| NHS staff helped me survive losing my seven-year-old daughter to cancer | NHS staff helped me survive losing my seven-year-old daughter to cancer |
| (21 days later) | |
| My seven-year-old daughter, Rosie, was diagnosed with stage four liver cancer in December 2016 and admitted to hospital the same day. She and I remained in hospital for the following four-and-a-half months, during which time she underwent intense treatment. | My seven-year-old daughter, Rosie, was diagnosed with stage four liver cancer in December 2016 and admitted to hospital the same day. She and I remained in hospital for the following four-and-a-half months, during which time she underwent intense treatment. |
| My worst fear, the type that makes your stomach lurch and your body break out into a cold sweat, was that the treatment wouldn’t work and I would have to leave the hospital without Rosie. On 4 May last year, that fear became a reality: Rosie died and my world came crashing down around me. That day I watched my daughter take her last breath as my husband and I held her hands. My twin daughters, who never wanted to be apart, were separated forever – and I had to say goodbye to my little girl and leave her at the hospital and return home. | My worst fear, the type that makes your stomach lurch and your body break out into a cold sweat, was that the treatment wouldn’t work and I would have to leave the hospital without Rosie. On 4 May last year, that fear became a reality: Rosie died and my world came crashing down around me. That day I watched my daughter take her last breath as my husband and I held her hands. My twin daughters, who never wanted to be apart, were separated forever – and I had to say goodbye to my little girl and leave her at the hospital and return home. |
| Home, however, had become the McElwain ward at the Royal Marsden, where I had spent every moment with Rosie. It felt so cruel, to be thrust together and go through so much, only to be separated forever. Finding yourself on a children’s cancer ward is every parent’s nightmare; we tell ourselves it only happens to other people or daren’t think about it at all, but for us the nightmare was real. In the midst of the darkness, however, we experienced amazing compassion, humanity and kindness from the NHS staff on the ward. | Home, however, had become the McElwain ward at the Royal Marsden, where I had spent every moment with Rosie. It felt so cruel, to be thrust together and go through so much, only to be separated forever. Finding yourself on a children’s cancer ward is every parent’s nightmare; we tell ourselves it only happens to other people or daren’t think about it at all, but for us the nightmare was real. In the midst of the darkness, however, we experienced amazing compassion, humanity and kindness from the NHS staff on the ward. |
| Rosie wasn’t just a cancer patient, she was a little girl who they befriended and cared for | Rosie wasn’t just a cancer patient, she was a little girl who they befriended and cared for |
| On the day of our arrival, a nurse who could clearly sense my terror gave me a hug and told me that the Marsden was like a family that we would come to feel part of. Her words have stayed with me, because she was right. | On the day of our arrival, a nurse who could clearly sense my terror gave me a hug and told me that the Marsden was like a family that we would come to feel part of. Her words have stayed with me, because she was right. |
| The nurses, doctors, psychologists, physiotherapists and dieticians worked in collaboration with the children. Rosie wasn’t just a cancer patient, she was a little girl who they befriended and cared for. They gave medicine and increasing doses of pain relief to her as the cancer took hold of her body; they spent hours researching and liaising with international colleagues in order to deliver the best treatment available; they would continue to spend time with her, even after shifts had finished, to chat, to play board games, to tell jokes, or lend DVDs; and they held her hand or stroked her head during treatment. | The nurses, doctors, psychologists, physiotherapists and dieticians worked in collaboration with the children. Rosie wasn’t just a cancer patient, she was a little girl who they befriended and cared for. They gave medicine and increasing doses of pain relief to her as the cancer took hold of her body; they spent hours researching and liaising with international colleagues in order to deliver the best treatment available; they would continue to spend time with her, even after shifts had finished, to chat, to play board games, to tell jokes, or lend DVDs; and they held her hand or stroked her head during treatment. |
| The staff supported the family, too, spending time with Rosie’s twin when she was finding it increasingly distressing to see her sister so unwell, encouraging us to have precious time together with sleepovers, and being there for me on a daily basis. | The staff supported the family, too, spending time with Rosie’s twin when she was finding it increasingly distressing to see her sister so unwell, encouraging us to have precious time together with sleepovers, and being there for me on a daily basis. |
| My sole purpose became about getting Rosie through the day, through the next procedure, the next dose of chemotherapy and the horrendous side effects that accompany it. | My sole purpose became about getting Rosie through the day, through the next procedure, the next dose of chemotherapy and the horrendous side effects that accompany it. |
| At night, when Rosie was asleep, I had time to stop and think and the brave mask would slip. Sitting in the dark next to my precious and very poorly child I was confronted with my worst fears, but the staff were there for me. They sat with me while I cried, cried with me, hugged me, made me tea or distracted me with conversation. My husband would worry about me being alone at the hospital and I would reply: “but I’m not”. | At night, when Rosie was asleep, I had time to stop and think and the brave mask would slip. Sitting in the dark next to my precious and very poorly child I was confronted with my worst fears, but the staff were there for me. They sat with me while I cried, cried with me, hugged me, made me tea or distracted me with conversation. My husband would worry about me being alone at the hospital and I would reply: “but I’m not”. |
| The day Rosie died she was being looked after by two nurses whose professionalism and compassion was overwhelming. To them this was Rosie, the little girl they had befriended, who had indeed become part of the family. After she died, I helped the nurses to wash and dress Rosie one last time. We dressed her in her favourite onesie, and as we did so the nurses were so gentle and chatted to her as they always had done. In that moment, in which the world seemed broken and cruel, they demonstrated such humanity and kindness. | The day Rosie died she was being looked after by two nurses whose professionalism and compassion was overwhelming. To them this was Rosie, the little girl they had befriended, who had indeed become part of the family. After she died, I helped the nurses to wash and dress Rosie one last time. We dressed her in her favourite onesie, and as we did so the nurses were so gentle and chatted to her as they always had done. In that moment, in which the world seemed broken and cruel, they demonstrated such humanity and kindness. |
| On 4 May we lost our little girl, our daughter lost her twin sister and best friend, and the grief and loss has reverberated in our wider family and community. We now live with an overwhelming level of pain, but thanks again to the NHS we continue to be cared for. | On 4 May we lost our little girl, our daughter lost her twin sister and best friend, and the grief and loss has reverberated in our wider family and community. We now live with an overwhelming level of pain, but thanks again to the NHS we continue to be cared for. |
| Our GP, who referred Rosie immediately to hospital for further tests, has continued to support us. My daughter and I also both see clinical psychologists through the NHS who have helped us to navigate a world that suddenly made no sense, and to process our grief and trauma. As an NHS clinical psychologist myself, I understand the impact of loss and trauma, but experiencing it has placed me on the other side. It turns out that tragedy doesn’t just happen to other people – and none of us know when we will be depending on the NHS to care for us or our loved ones. | Our GP, who referred Rosie immediately to hospital for further tests, has continued to support us. My daughter and I also both see clinical psychologists through the NHS who have helped us to navigate a world that suddenly made no sense, and to process our grief and trauma. As an NHS clinical psychologist myself, I understand the impact of loss and trauma, but experiencing it has placed me on the other side. It turns out that tragedy doesn’t just happen to other people – and none of us know when we will be depending on the NHS to care for us or our loved ones. |
| If you would like to contribute to our Blood, sweat and tears series about experiences in healthcare, read our guidelines and get in touch by emailing sarah.johnson@theguardian.com. | If you would like to contribute to our Blood, sweat and tears series about experiences in healthcare, read our guidelines and get in touch by emailing sarah.johnson@theguardian.com. |
| Join the Healthcare Professionals Network to read more pieces like this. And follow us on Twitter (@GdnHealthcare) to keep up with the latest healthcare news and views. | Join the Healthcare Professionals Network to read more pieces like this. And follow us on Twitter (@GdnHealthcare) to keep up with the latest healthcare news and views. |
| If you’re looking for a healthcare job or need to recruit staff, visit Guardian Jobs. | If you’re looking for a healthcare job or need to recruit staff, visit Guardian Jobs. |
| Healthcare Network | Healthcare Network |
| Blood, sweat and tears | Blood, sweat and tears |
| Hospitals and acute care | Hospitals and acute care |
| NHS | NHS |
| Health | Health |
| Cancer | Cancer |
| Family | Family |
| blogposts | blogposts |
| Share on Facebook | Share on Facebook |
| Share on Twitter | Share on Twitter |
| Share via Email | Share via Email |
| Share on LinkedIn | Share on LinkedIn |
| Share on Pinterest | Share on Pinterest |
| Share on Google+ | Share on Google+ |
| Share on WhatsApp | Share on WhatsApp |
| Share on Messenger | Share on Messenger |
| Reuse this content | Reuse this content |
Previous version
1
Next version