Christmas appeal: Dan shares his wife, Lisa’s, care story

Anyone who knew Lisa would say she was a very special kind-hearted woman. She would help everybody and anybody before herself. Lisa spent a lot of time with her Grandparents throughout her childhood and learnt a lot from them. Along with her Mum, they all made her the person she was and helped ensure she appreciated everything she had in life – values she instilled in our children, James and Amber.

When she was a little girl, her granddad Cliff taught her to fish and later handed all his gear down to her. I remember her saying, ‘I wish I could get away for the weekend and just go and sit and fish.’ But she was the sort of person who’d make sure all the kids’ hooks were baited before she did her own – that they were having the very best day. That’s just who she was.

Our lives were so busy, so full. I don’t need to tell you how devastating it was to us all when Lisa got ill. Bowel cancer is a horrific diagnosis for anyone, let alone a healthy 42 year old.

At first, we were trying to deal with everything on our own. This was Lisa’s way, I think, of trying to take a bit of control back. But when the pain became too much, we couldn’t manage by ourselves anymore. That’s when the hospice fi rst came into our lives – helping to organise the right medications over the next few weeks to get Lisa’s pain under control.

But, the time came when our house wasn’t the right place for Lisa to receive care any more; Daisy, one of St Nic’s nurses, came to visit and Lisa told them she simply couldn’t manage. I remember sitting beside her on the couch and she wouldn’t even let me touch her; she was in too much pain. Daisy went straight back to the hospice to put the wheels in motion to get Lisa a bed.

Less than two hours later, she called us with the news – they had a bed. I remember sitting there, thinking to myself that this might be the last time Lisa ever saw our home. This was an overwhelming thought, but easing Lisa’s pain was the most important thing.

If I’m being honest, I imagined the hospice as a dark, sombre place.

But when we pulled up, the nurses came out with open arms. As they wheeled her into the entrance, it felt like home. Some of the nurses offered me a cup of tea and one said, ‘We’re going to get Lisa comfortable,’ and that was that.

Lisa went into the hospice in November. Lisa loved Christmas – her preparations started very early. We always had two trees up at home. And I promised Lisa I’d put them both up this year, just like always. Knowing how important it was, the nurses picked out a lovely tree for us to have in the room and I went and bought the red and gold decorations Lisa wanted.

It looked so nice, we always had a knock at the door, asking if people could see it!

It was these little things the hospice did that made such an impact on our family. The nurses decided to do a little Christmas afternoon for us – with pizza and ice cream, a beer for me and a Christmas movie.

I still have the photo; Lisa sitting up in bed, eating jam roly poly, her favourite, with James watching the movie and Amber looking at her mum, laughing at something she said.

A few days before the end of Lisa’s life, I had what I came to see as a crucial conversation with one of the nurses. She wanted to know what I had planned with the kids that week. I mentioned that we’d all be in on Saturday, as usual, because the kids had school. Then she said, ‘Bring him up tomorrow,’ she said. ‘It might be the best thing you ever did.’

James had been working on this jewellery box in Design and Technology; he wanted to give it to his mum for Christmas. After this conversation, I went home and woke him up; ‘No school tomorrow, we’re going to see Mum and you can give her the jewellery box.’

I’ll never forget that day. The sun was shining outside and we had the patio doors open. Lisa sat up in the bed, smiling and chatting to James. He finally gave her his project, so proud. ‘Well done mate. You’ve done a lovely job of this – it’s really great!’

They had a good few hours together, a few tears and a bit of laughter, him holding her hand. And I sat there and thought that this wouldn’t have happened without that advice from the nurse.

The next few days would be up and down, with Lisa less responsive and more tired. James and Amber said goodbye to their mum that Saturday, and on Sunday, she was gone.

Today I’m doing well and so are the kids; it’s important to me to help the hospice, everyone who was on that journey with us with open arms and friendly faces and an offer of a cup of tea and a chat. Last autumn, I volunteered to help at Light up a Life. I was privileged to stand at the door and hand out the order of service, to greet people in. They’ve asked me again this year – and I’ve said yes. I know Lisa would be so proud.

If you’re thinking about coming to Light up a Life, it’d be an honour to meet you. The hospice needs our support today more than ever before; I can honestly say that we simply wouldn’t be in the positive place we are today without them.

Donate to our appeal: This Christmas, would you like to bring comfort and compassion to families in need. Your support allows us to provide essential care, dignity, and precious memories to local families.

Every day, it costs £750 to care for each patient at St Nicholas Hospice. A gift of £31 from you could mean an hour of specialised, compassionate care for a patient facing a difficult journey this winter. And on Christmas Day, your generosity could help provide a heartwarming Christmas lunch for a patient and their family, bringing them a moment of comfort and creating cherished memories during an otherwise challenging time.

Donate today, ensuring their days are filled with joy, love, and beautiful moments that will be cherished,

£22, could contribute to a child’s bereavement counselling session.

£31, could go towards an hour of care for a patient on the Inpatient Unit this Christmas.

£52, this amount could help to provide several hours of symptom control and pain management, so that a family like Lisa and Dan’s can enjoy a festive afternoon together, creating memorable moments.

£101, a special Christmas gift to go towards keeping a bed open over the winter months.