“A hospice offers much more than end of life care”

Towards the end of 2020 I was having pain in my pelvis. I was making lots of visits to my GP but not getting any real help, just lots of pain medication. Eventually, my left leg swelled up, so I went to A&E and, after a series of scans, they discovered I had stage four bowel cancer. By the end of that week, I had a stoma fitted. Once I was diagnosed, everything happened quite quickly.

I was shocked to hear my diagnosis. All those months when I was asking for a scan from my GP, the cancer was eating away at my sacrum, which explains why I was in so much pain.

My treatment started quite quickly around March 2021, but I really wasn't managing that well at home. I was in immense pain, which wasn't good for my daughter to see or my mum to manage. Mum spoke to the Marie Curie Hospice, West Midlands and they were able to find a place for me.

I arrived at the hospice at the beginning of May very much immobile, as the tumour was pressing on nerves in my spine. I was flat on my back, looking up at the ceiling, and couldn't have gone home as we just didn't have the facilities to cope with my situation. Going into the hospice was the best place to manage all my treatment and needs at that time.

People don't always have a very positive impression of what a hospice is all about. They have that image that you're going to the hospice to die. What they don't realise is all the support a hospice can offer, not just at end of life, but also during those difficult times in your journey with cancer, or any terminal illness. When people came to visit me, they saw what a different type of place it was.

I could have visitors, the environment was lovely and the level of care I received was really good. I had support workers and a nurse allocated all the time, which was completely different scenario to being in hospital, where you're left alone most of the time. It was very reassuring for my family.

I was told by the oncologist that I wasn't strong enough for any more treatment, which was frustrating, but gave me that determination to push on and do more intense work with Zoe, my physiotherapist, which enabled me to start walking again.

My family couldn't believe how well I had done in regaining my mobility so quickly. I was just so determined to prove the oncologists wrong. So when Zoe offered me a new challenge I was always up for giving it a go. Zoe's encouragement and belief in me was second to none.

I had complete trust in Zoe, she listened to my goals and arranged our sessions around these to help me achieve my objectives. I honestly believe that without being pushed by Zoe I would not have reached my goals so quickly and for this I am forever grateful. Now I'm back at home and sometimes I hear her voice when I try to get out of my chair ("Nose over toes!") and I correct my posture.

We knew it was extremely important to Corinna, or Cori as we called her, to regain her independence and return home from the hospice. She wanted to be with her 12-year-old daughter, Tiana, and get back to some form of normality. She was doing really well when she left the hospice, it was such a total turnaround from not being able to move or sit up. She was walking. We were all so chuffed to see the improvement.

The final weeks, when Cori started to deteriorate, were very unexpected. Her health declined quickly. She was in hospital in a really bad way. From there, she went home for a very short time and then back into the hospice. Cori's mum Georgie never left her side. Cori knew we were there, even though she couldn't communicate. She was never alone.

Cori died on 4 January 2022. Her send-off was beautiful. The sun was shining and the sheer number of people that were there showed how much she was loved. People travelled from quite a distance to pay their respects. Her daughter Tiana got up and talked, I said a few words too. What I noticed was how we all said very similar things about Cori – how motivating she was, how uplifting she was, how she was just a fun person that would light up a room.

It was really important to Cori to make other people aware that a hospice offers much more than just end of life care. For Cori, the rehabilitation she had at the hospice gave her the physical strength and the determination to enable her to return home and get back to a life as normal as possible.

Cori was such a positive person – she never doubted her ability to achieve what she wanted from life. She would always say to her daughter: "There's no such word as 'can't'." If I ever felt down, I could ring Cori and she would lift my spirits. That's the sort of person she was, she just lifted you.

We'd like Corinna to be remembered as a brave and courageous young woman who never gave up. We remember Cori as fiercely independent, beautiful, funny and sassy.