Having been treated for cancer on and off for 20 years, and having visited friends who died in our In-Patient Unit, Lynda admits she was scared of coming to stay with us for help with her symptoms.
But in March, after a bad spell of illness, Lynda bravely reached out for that help and faced her fears. Thanks to the care of our teams, she’s back at home and feeling more supported than ever.
I was brought up in Newcastle. I came to Milton Keynes in December 1979 when I was 21, just for a couple of weeks to see my friend. I never went back! It was like toy town. And it was so quiet. I just loved the place. It was everything that I thought I knew I wanted, but didn’t know where it was.
I brought my young daughter, Stacey, with me. I started doing shifts at the local pub and got a lovely house in Coffee Hall nominated by my employer, because that’s what you did back then. I met my husband-to-be, who was my window cleaner. We had a baby, Michelle, and he took on Stacey as his daughter too. We were together 10 years. We separated and he married again, but we stayed friends till the day he died two years ago.
Living, not existing
In 2006 I found out I had an invasive malignant tumour on my left breast. So I went through an operation and four months of chemo. I got the ‘all clear’. In 2022 I was diagnosed with throat cancer. I had immunotherapy, chemotherapy and radical radiotherapy. I’ve always thought I’m a bit of a tough cookie, but the treatment was really hard.
“I’ve always thought I’m a bit of a tough cookie, but the treatment was really hard.”
By late 2023 I was feeling better and went back to the doctors, thinking they were going to say it had gone. Unfortunately the cancer had spread to my lungs. So I thought, ‘Okay, we’re going to deal with this.’ My daughter and my sister were crying their eyes out, but I was keeping it in because I didn’t want them to feel my pain.
Last year I started taking part in a clinical trial at a London hospital. I had a lot of side effects, which caused me pain in my hands, feet and mouth. In autumn we had a meeting with all the doctors, and they agreed with me: let’s stop the treatment. I was always ill, and I thought, ‘This isn’t living; I’m just existing.’ If I haven’t got more than a year or so, I want at least to be able to enjoy it.
Too much to deal with
In February this year, I’d been pretty ill and I got referred to Willen at Home. I couldn’t eat without feeling sick, but I still tried. I couldn’t go to the toilet. I think I’d taken the wrong tablets. I just got myself in a right mess. Sometimes it does just get that bit too much for anyone to deal with.
Willen at Home said to me, ‘Why don’t you stay in our In-Patient Unit, just for a week or two to recover?’ And I said, ‘No, no, no – I am not going in there.’ I was scared, because I thought people only went to the Hospice to die. Two weeks later, I said, ‘Please take me in.’
“I’ve never phoned anyone and said, ‘I need help’. But I did on that day.”
I always think I can handle things myself. But for the first time in a long time, I was actually looking for help. I’ve never phoned anyone and said, ‘I need help’. But I did on that day. I mean, it took a lot. I was really ill. I don’t even remember arriving at the Hospice.
Lynda sitting on our In-Patient Unit balcony during her stay, with long-time friend Liam and his dog, Dylan
Overwhelmed by support
At the In-Patient Unit I got so much support. I find it very emotional when people are really nice to me though. The staff and volunteers were all so lovely and couldn’t do enough for me. I think I get overwhelmed. I’m all right when people say, ‘This is what you’ve got to do’, but when people are nice to me, I well up! I was brought up in care in the 1960s, so I never got a lot of comfort.
“I’m all right when people say, ‘This is what you’ve got to do’, but when people are nice to me, I well up!”
The biggest difference of staying in the In-Patient Unit was having help with the pain around my ear. I’ve got medication that doesn’t take the pain away, but it eases it. That’s good enough because it feels like having earache and toothache together. In the unit I could call a nurse for my medication and then about 20 minutes later, the pain would settle down. Sore but bearable.
Also it was nice to be able to lie in bed and someone brought me a cup of tea – that hasn’t happened since my wedding day! Just little things like that. The team are amazing.
“Life without the Hospice would be terrible. Now I know I’ve got some support.”
Staying strong for others
I’m a bit anxious about being at home again, but I’m ok. Willen at Home are coming out to see me and make sure I’m all right. They’ve arranged to put a handrail in my bathroom and they’re always there at the end of the phone.
Life without the Hospice would be terrible. Now I know I’ve got some support. Not just on the phone, but people who see how you really are and see your reactions and how you’re feeling. Because on the outside you always want to be the tough one for everybody else.
I’ve got support from my two daughters and my friend too. They’ve got their own lives and I don’t want them running round after me, but sometimes I need them.
No need for fear
I told the doctor at the Hospice that I’m not ready to talk about dying. But I know there’s nothing else I can do. There’s no cure, so it’s just a case of how long. One year, two years, three years – I don’t know.
All I knew about the Hospice before my stay was that my friends went in there and they died. Apart from one. I visited her at the Hospice this time last year. She’d been given three to six months to live. She came to visit me there in March and I couldn’t stop crying.
“I will be shouting from the rooftops … don’t be scared of coming to the Hospice.”
So now I know that she’s living proof, and I am too – you don’t go to the In-Patient Unit just to die. I had it all wrong and I will be shouting from the rooftops to whoever will listen to me: don’t be scared of coming to the Hospice.
