This is such a hard letter to write. But I’m doing it in honour of my twin sister Vicci, an amazing wife, mum, daughter and sister.
We lost Vicci to cancer in April this year. She was just 36 years old. I still can’t believe she’s gone. I’m the youngest by 20 minutes and Vicci never let me forget it! All our lives, we were inseparable. When we were young, the other kids didn’t know our names – they just called us ‘the twins’.
In those days, me and Vicci were constantly in trouble. But Vicci protected me. She always took the blame for everything. When she was dying and we were all sat around her bed, our dad started talking about all the naughty things she got up to when she was a kid. My other sister and brother started laughing. ‘It wasn’t her, Dad, it was Michael!’, they said. Dad had no idea.
It was five years ago that they found the first tumour in her womb. It wasn’t classed as serious. It was cancer, but not life-threatening, and she beat it. But then it came back. And it was more aggressive. Vicci threw the kitchen sink at it, with all these different treatments, even immunotherapy. She was determined to get better for her family: her two young daughters, Sienna Mae and Isla Rose, and, of course, her husband, Paul.
We were told in the January that the cancer was gone in some areas and shrunk in others – this turned out to be a false reading. We knew something was wrong before she went to the doctor,
because she was losing loads of weight. When I saw her, she was really pale too. After she went to hospital, she called me to tell me it wasn’t good. I already knew. She did go home for a while, but she didn’t want Paul and our dad to have to look after her. It was too hard for them emotionally. Vicci told us all, ‘I want to go into the hospice’.
I was dreading it. I thought it would be like a hospital ward. But it was the complete opposite of what I expected. It was so calm, supportive and peaceful. Vicci had her own room, which was massive, so we could all visit her – there are loads of us in the family.
There was a games room for the kids and we could bring as many people as we liked. No one was
bothered. I think she had near 200 people come to visit while she was there. We were always apologising to the nurses, but they just said it was great to see.
We even had a room where we could stay over. And the nurses were like family. They put meals on for us. There was constant tea, biscuits and juice – plus lots of milk for Vicci, because she really liked it. Nothing was too much trouble.
One thing that stands out was when we realised Vicci wouldn’t be there to see her girls at their school prom. The nurses helped us get dresses from a shop in Lytham, so the girls could dress up and show her in her hospice room. It was such a poignant moment. She was with us for two more weeks before she died.
After she was gone, the nurse came out and gave us all key rings with her thumbprint on them and a personal inscription for each of us. Vicci had organised it with them without us knowing. She was so kind and caring like that. I think about the hospice a lot. We all do. They gave me the chance to be her brother at the end, and not a carer. I know they’re still helping Paul and the girls with
counselling.
Trinity Hospice did everything for our family. And now, I would do anything for them. That’s why I donate to them. And we’re all going to Light up a Life, to honour Vicci. They gave us a special Memory Star, which will be hung on the Christmas tree with ‘Mummy’ written on it, from the girls.
If someone in your family has been cared for by Trinity Hospice, I hope you can join us too. And if you can support them, in whatever way, we really know the difference it will make.
