From Grief to Growth: My Journey with St Mary’s

It was 24th June 2019 when I knew there was no way back for Stephen, my husband of nearly 39 years. We had been together since we were both 14 years old. We had been told in January 2019 that if there was no chance of a liver transplant his prognosis was 1-2 years…he died around 6 months later, at 2.30pm on 19 July 2019. Talk about a sledgehammer to your head, he was 58 years old, why had this happened? He needed a liver transplant but there was no chance of this huge operation been performed even by the most skilled surgeons, Stephen was too ill and would have died on the operating table. So, he had spent the last 3 weeks in Furness General, where they had tried every treatment to help him, they even let him trial coming home for a night or 2 but he was too poorly to be out of hospital.

St Mary’s Hospice had been positioned to us after we were informed there would be no more trying to cure him, it was palliative care from here on. Stephen’s reaction was, Hospices are where people go to die, and maybe that was my view at that time, but I know so much more now; and how wrong was that opinion. My daughter & myself were first introduced to Linda and her colleague at Abbey View, at Furness General, around 2 days before Stephen died. At the time there was availability & Stephen could have been moved to the Hospice, but he was just too poorly to be transferred and never experienced the care package at the Hospice. However, this didn’t matter because these “Angels” entered my world & Linda remained there until I was able to “walk” by myself. Which was over 3 years later.

I recall saying to her in mid-July 2019, I wouldn’t need Bereavement Counselling as I had already been grieving for a person who, since his illness, didn’t exist anymore. How wrong was I? Then three weeks after Stephen’s death, funeral over, sympathy cards taken down, Bank accounts closed, everyone in your life appears to return to normality, except you…life will never ever be the same again….or that was how I felt then. I was in a deep dark pit which I couldn’t climb out of. I had cared for Stephen for so many years I can’t remember, if love could have cured him, I wouldn’t be writing this now. What could I do? I was a mess; I rang the number which Linda had given me & asked for help. Linda picked up, she was waiting for me to ring, she knew I couldn’t go it alone.

That phone call started my recovery. At first, I visited regularly for face-to-face appointments, and it just felt so good to talk to someone who understood. Understood where I was and where I needed to get to, just listened to me, let me cry the tears, didn’t judge, just advised not to be hard on myself, goodness knows I had never been easy on myself. When someone asks how you are, DON’T say fine when you are not, tell the truth. You CAN say to people “I don’t want to discuss this.” These were all new concepts to me. And then Covid 19 struck, I couldn’t visit the Hospice, but Linda was still there for me, at the end of a phone. Gradually I could feel myself being raised out of my pit. To the position I find myself in today. Almost 6 years since Stephen died, with Linda’s help I’ve learnt to live alone, to love myself & love what I do. I’ve emerged a stronger person, I can’t even think where or what could have happened without the Hospice support. How wrong I was thinking St Mary’s was just somewhere where people went to die. I wasn’t ill (yes, I was but I didn’t know it) and I benefitted from their help and caring. “when our lives are knocked off course, we imagine everything in them is lost. It is only the start of something new and good. As long as there is life there is happiness. There is a great deal, a great deal still to come.” War & Peace. Leo Tolstoy.

Thank you, St Mary’s Hospice for everything you have helped me with, giving me hope for the future. I’ve remained friends with Linda, and I really value her advice. And…I have been seeing a gentleman for the last 2 months; Linda was one of the first people I wanted to tell.
CJA.