I've just received news that Henri, a friend of ours has
passed away in St Richard's Hospice. She
was a lovely woman and will be sadly missed by all of us, particularly of
course her family; made all the more poignant as she leaves behind three
children who are still of school age.
The irony is that she had a similar cancer to me, but tragically it was
more invasive and harder to treat. When
I was beginning to have symptoms I was doing some decorating at her house, and
I told her I was having problems with getting a diagnosis as the consultant I
had seen decided because I was relatively young, didn't smoke and had a pretty
healthy lifestyle that I wasn't at any great risk. It was clear that my symptoms matched those
of Henri's, who was by then very ill, and she urged me to pay privately for an
endoscopy; something she said she wished she had done herself. She was really emphatic, but when I enquired
as to how much it would cost, we simply didn't have the funds, so instead I
rang the hospital and constantly hassled them for a cancellation; my
persistence paid off, thank God, and consequently I was seen earlier than I
would have been. As soon as I had the
endoscopy I was told that I had a tumour, then I had to ring again and hassle
for a cancellation for a CT scan. A
couple of weeks after that I went under the knife, and thankfully my consultant
(in spite of being so stubborn about seeing me) was an excellent surgeon, and
the hospital care in the 'surgical high dependency ward' was very professional
and compassionate. It's so important to
get an early diagnosis, and therefore it was alarming that I had to battle so
hard to get one for myself. And I guess
I was spurred on by Henri, who in spite of her own struggle seemed somehow to
have room in her heart to think of me too.
Just before I went into hospital I sent her some photographs of a
holiday we shared when a load of us went camping at a rock festival: faces
grinning at the camera - herself, her husband, her kids and the rest of us
caught up in the moment, just chilling and enjoying the music, the sunshine and
each other. I hope it made her smile; we
were all smiling that weekend, smiling and laughing... we are all so frail.
Saturday, 16 June 2012
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