I'm eternally grateful for my treasured mum's care

Cecilia Hope was cared for by Saint Francis Hospice before she died on 7 November 2022. Here her loving daughter shares how her experience completely changed her views on hospice care. 

Mum was my world, my best friend, my guidance. She was my everything. My song for her was ‘My Treasure’ by Placido Domingo because that’s what she was and will always be - MY treasure. The lyrics are everything about how I feel about her. 

My treasured mum, and me

In July 2022 I noticed that she wasn’t able to eat much at a family BBQ and she said she was feeling low. I made an appointment for her to see the doctor and she was sent for an X-ray as she had tenderness in her stomach. The results showed a shadow on her liver and following a CT scan and a biopsy, the doctor came back and said, “it’s not good news, you have pancreatic cancer.” 

Mum just thought she had a blockage. She was sick non-stop and when she wasn’t sick, she was in bed exhausted. Her oncologist gave her medication to stop the sickness and get her appetite back, and for a short while she was almost back to herself. So, in the October I arranged a surprise gathering for her 80th birthday of just her closest friends and family. 

Sadly though, by this point, the pancreatic cancer had spread to her liver. You think you are going to be going to be the one, that there will be some miracle. 

I had no idea Mum would prefer hospice care

When the community nurses from Saint Francis Hospice visited us at home, they said Mum had two choices - she could go to hospital or the hospice. I said hospital but Mum said hospice straight away. I remember trying to talk her out of it, but Mum was clear - she wanted to go to the hospice. How wrong would I have been! 

I came to the hospice a few weeks before Mum was admitted to collect a toilet frame and at first, I could not come in - I had terrible anxiety and I was frozen with fear outside. Eventually I came in and I was met at reception, and everything was fine. 

On the Tuesday in Mid-October when Mum was admitted to the ward for the swelling on her abdomen to be drained, it blew my mind. Whatever I thought it was going to be like, it was the opposite. There was warmth and it was homely. She felt comfortable and safe straight-away, and that meant the world. 

She had some tests, then went home so she could go to the funeral of her best friend Doreen on the Wednesday and then came back to the ward the following day. Doreen and Mum had been friends for 70 years and she featured a lot in the funeral, so it was important she was there that day.

Mum and Auntie Doreen

Mum lost her hearing as a child and after the funeral I asked Doreen’s son if he could email me the eulogy so Mum could read it while she was at the hospice. 

The Hospice was a safe space to talk and to listen to Mum

One of hardest things in life with Mum’s hearing that I struggled with, was that people seemed to ignore Mum. She deserved to be listened to and at times it felt as though she had lost her voice. 

Mum was in a bay with a lovely lady who had lung cancer and she was brilliant. It was like Mum’s friend, my Auntie Doreen, had put her there to show Mum the ropes. 

Mum was a dental nurse and the lady had been a nurse and even though Mum couldn’t hear, it didn’t stop them having great chats outside. 

Mum must have felt so alone when she was diagnosed and to come here and meet someone who she got on with and was in a similar position, really helped her. She could ask her questions. If Mum had come out, they would have kept in contact. 

The lady would take Mum out to the pergola, and I remember her telling me all about the young lady Ria who had loved the outdoors and how her family had funded the pergola so everyone could enjoy the beautiful gardens. 

If the walls of the pergola could talk! It is a sanctuary of people’s wishes, hopes, dreams and regrets. It is a place of contentment and appreciation. We had lovely winter’s days where we sat in the pergola. Mum looked very elegant wearing her dressing gown and pyjamas. I painted her nails, gave her a freshen up every day. 

One day when we were sitting out there, I asked her, “What would you like going forward? Do you want to go home or would you like to stay here?”  

I had found it too hard to have these conversations before. She always thought about me before herself. She was worried she could not be at the hospice because I would not want her to be here. Under that pergola, she said she would like to be here when she went because she knew she would be taken care of. There was peace all around us that day.

I will be eternally grateful for those last few days with Mum

She did not know it was going to be a few days before she died, no one did. She just accepted that this was her place, and her time was coming, and she was comfortable. There is no doubt in my mind about that. 

Mum wasn’t eligible for organ donation but when she was asked about corneal donation she said yes straight away. 

I sat with mum every day. It was so painful, but it was a privilege to be there, it was an absolute honour. Nothing can compare to what the hospice team gave me during those 10 days she was on the ward. We had special moments in those last hours of her life. We had privacy, and the hospice gave us space while she was growing her angel wings. She brought me into this world, and I watched her leave. 

Me, my brother David, and Mum

I had never experienced a hospice before, never experienced death, and I know nothing will ever be as hard as this. It meant the world to me to be in this place. 

I have seen the Saint Francis Hospice orange sign a thousand times before but never really taken much notice. You do not realise the difference the hospice can make in one person’s world. It is a life changing experience to go through and to come away and to have no negativity is amazing, and I will spend the rest of my life being eternally grateful.