Green Wing actor, Stephen Mangan, 37, may have played a doctor for laughs but he couldn't have faced his parent's battle with cancer without a supporting cast.
The fact that my
parents never got to meet my son, Harry, 2, is one of the greatest
sorrows in my life. Both were such warm people and he's such a
fantastic child, I know they'd have loved each other instantly.
But they've both passed away.
My mum, Mary, died of colon cancer aged just 46 in March 1994 and
my dad, James, passed away 11 years later in September 2005, due to
a brain tumour. They were both cared for at home by Marie Curie
Nurses in the last weeks of their lives. Losing them was
heartbreaking, but being able to have them at home with us, in
their own bed, was a massive comfort.
They were wonderful parents, always determined to do the best they
could for my two younger sisters, Anita and Lisa, and me. We were
all very close, which
is why when I left university in 1993
and found myself at a crossroads, I decided
to move back to
the family home in London.
In September 1993, Mum complained of abdominal pain. She was
referred to Chase Farm Hospital, Middlesex, for an operation. It
was due to last an hour, instead it took seven. A large tumour was
found in her colon and we were told she'd need chemotherapy and
radiotherapy.
As Mum and I had always been close, I said I'd stay at home so
I could drive her to and from all her treatments. We all firmly
believed she'd get better. But sadly, the cancer spread to her
liver. She'd always been my protector but now our roles were
switched. We pulled together as a family, but looking after her was
a full-time job. We became exhausted and found it difficult to
cope.
Our district nurse suggested we approach Marie Curie and they sent
nurses to help us who would arrive at 9pm, stay until 7am and do
whatever was needed. On the night Mum passed away in March 1994, I
cooked a horrible chicken curry and we all laughed about it. It
seems strange to laugh at a time like that, but it
was a
fantastic release. Then, at about 9pm, we gathered around her bed.
Between then and 1am when she died, our Marie Curie Nurse
discreetly melted into the background. She then came back to deal
with all the practicalities, which was a great relief.
Slowly, we all began to adjust to life without Mum. Dad realised
life was short and told us he wanted to see the world. We joined
him on many holidays, but in March 2005, after a trip to Burma, he
complained of severe headaches. I took him to The Wellington
Hospital, London, for tests. A scan revealed he had an inoperable
brain tumour. My world went into meltdown. When Mum was ill,
I'd lent on Dad. Now he was ill and, as the oldest child, I had
to cope with all the emotional and practical issues.
Shortly after Dad's diagnosis I met my wife, Louise, and after
a few months I introduced her to him. By then Dad was having
seizures and no longer talking. We contacted Marie Curie and nurses
sat with him through the night just as they had with Mum. In
September 2005, I stopped work so I could be with him and the whole
family was there when he died a few weeks later.
We had many special moments with Mum and Dad during their last
days. Having Marie Curie Nurses there to look after them meant we
didn't have to worry about anything. What they did for us is so
precious that I'm only too pleased and proud to help them
now.
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