I’ll always remember my husband Graham as a decent and kind man, with a warm, gentle soul. We first met in the 80’s in Chicago where we’d both been posted. Graham tried to impress me with a rendition of the mad old poem “The Lion and Albert” - it worked! I knew then there was something special about him.
We married in England in 1988, and welcomed our beautiful daughter Laura to the world in 1989. Graham was your typical kiwi Dad - cheering from the side-lines and embarrassing Laura at parties with his dreadful dancing. We went about our lives as everyone does I guess – making the most of them, dreaming and making plans.
When Graham was diagnosed with a nasty tumour in 2012, we all thought he would have surgery and get better. But for months, he underwent 24 hour a day chemotherapy that fatigued him and left him unable to work. He had additional chemo sessions which left him knocked out and feeling sick. Four months after his initial diagnosis, we were told the devastating news that Graham could not be cured.
Graham literally shrugged his shoulders – he bravely accepted it and resigned himself to his fate. But that was so hard for us. Laura and I wanted a fight. We wanted to face this enemy head on, together.
If you have been through something similar, you’ll understand how it feels to be so helpless – the person who is ill feels they have no control over their life, they feel like they’re letting you down, they worry about how you’ll cope. And as the caregiver, seeing someone you love in so much pain is incredibly hard. You feel you’re not doing enough, and you’re angry with everything and everyone.
Graham didn’t want to talk about Hospice. It turns out they care for people at home, but back then Graham thought it was just somewhere you went to die. One night, I ended up with Graham in the car park outside the Hospice inpatient unit. I was beside myself – he was in so much distress, and all I wanted was to get him some pain relief. But he didn’t want a bar of Hospice - he asked me not to take him in, but also not to take him back to hospital.
I simply don’t know how to describe the team at Hospice as anything other than angelic. They calmed me down, they came out to the car to speak to Graham. They were able to look after him and make him comfortable enough that I could take him home, free of pain.
At that stage I was still working full time. Friends rostered themselves to visit Graham at home or take the dog for a walk. They would drop off meals or bring over a DVD. With Graham being unable to work we lost our new business – something we had put all our resources into, and the strain was enormous.
Into this melee came the wonderful, kind people from Hospice. The visiting nurses who calmed my husband with their kind and caring manner, the kindly doctor who counselled us both and gave me the advice that it was time I stopped working. Even the receptionist when I called Hospice was kind and compassionate. You could just tell that these people really cared. When Graham was eventually reffered to the Hospice inpatient unit, he was packed and ready to go almost before I hung up.
Arriving at the inpatient unit was a surreal experience. They tell me the majority of people who visit go home again, but somehow Laura and I just knew that for Graham, this was to be the final part of his journey. The welcome we got was as if we were royalty. Everyone went out of their way to make sure we had everything we could possibly need. Graham even perked up a bit – started bossing me and Laura around and sending us on errands. He looked so happy and peaceful, and to be honest – at home.
For the next few days the Hospice front desk ran a visitors’ roster with military-like precision. Graham had a vast circle of friends, and it seemed like every one of them wanted to visit, but all we had to do was tell the front desk he was tired and the most polite of iron curtains came down. We even managed to take Graham out for a day – Hospice lent us a wheelchair and off we went to the movies.
Two days later, Graham passed away. The team at Hospice came into their own even more. I cannot find the words to explain the dignity with which we were all treated – the total compassion and understanding.
My daughter and I were blessed to have had wonderful, caring family members to support us. But not everyone is so lucky and I know Hospice plays a crucial role in providing pastoral care too.
Whatever life holds for Laura and me in the future, Hospice will always be a part of it. Hospice was there in our moment of need and held our hands through the most difficult journey we have ever taken.
Please donate to Hospice today, and join me in supporting our very special local charity.
I saw a poster which said Hospice North Shore cares for more than 162 people every day. It’s hard to comprehend. They are people like Graham. They are the people we love.
With the population on the Shore aging, the need for Hospice care is growing, and Hospice needs our help. Hospice North Shore is a charity, and their services are provided free of charge – but only because people like you and I care. It’s all of us together that make the work of this very special charity possible.
Hospice North Shore was there for Graham. Please join me, and be there for Hospice.
Thank you.
Margaret Allen
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