A Father's Cancer Blog

Hi - I've been aware of this space since around January when my daughter, Anna, told me about it; more recently a work colleague shared it with me. I think my Anna knew or certainly knew of Erin. At the time I wasn't in a place where I felt I could make my way here.

Anna was diagnosed suddenly and without any warning on Jan 3 with a rare endocrine tumour of the adrenal gland; scans mid Jan showed not only the tumour clearly but also signs of rapid and aggresive spread. The end of January brought news from the MDT that surgery was simply not viable and that meant the prospect of radio or chemo therapy. As it turned out we never made it that far - Anna fell ill suddenly at home in early February and was scanned again in hospital. The next morning she was told no treatment was now viable and she would be moving to palliative care. So a bed transfer from Clinical Assessment to a Ward, discussions with Doctors - some of the most difficult and surreal a father can have with his daughter - and then within days into hospice care. Anna decided being at home was her priority and the NHS moved quickly to get her home and cared for. Anna's treatment and nursing needs changed and after nearly 14 days (some wonderful moments including a university graduation in the kitchen of her home, and a full circle moment with the teacher who inspired her to follow that career path) she made the journey back to Strathcarron, where she spent 10 days and passed away oh so peacefully in the minutes before dawn on Sunday March 9. Myself and her mum and brother were with her.

The experience throughout and since has been eye opening, heart breaking, life affirming, devastatingly irreversible - and we have all experienced the extreme ups and downs of the emotional tumbler from our perspectives as Anna's parents, her brother, individually and as a family changed forever.

We are navigating life without Anna; we've sought support from where we think we could best get it; we've been left surprised at being surrounded around the clock by all of the support - only to feel marooned, lost and purposeless in the days, weeks and now months afterwards. And we're still only 3 months on from her death - which feels both a lifetime ago and 3 minutes ago all at the same time.

Anna's life was a celebration. She was a literal ray of sunshine. She touched so many people in so many ways over 25 years. People she knew from being a baby to people she met on her last adventure abroad were all her besties.

We miss her more than I can write down here. We want to honour her life and I would like our experience to be a help to others. This seemed like an apt place to say so.

I would add that the staff - medics, doctors, specialists, nurses, auxilliaries, therapists, district nurses, GPs - what they do is incredible. The NHS is said to be on its knees - that's not the NHS we experienced as a family nor the one that looked after Anna as she faced her final days and weeks with us.