Matt and I met when we were teenagers. We worked at the same cafe – I was the weekend coffee girl, he was a student working a summer job. I used to make him his lunch every day and casually put chocolate love hearts on top of his cappuccino. It took a few weeks of chocolate love hearts to get him to ask me out.
Matt's diagnosis
In 2015 Matt and I got married and I felt so lucky – he was such a sweet, lovely, caring human being.
It was a year after our wedding that Matt started feeling ill. At first we thought it might be food poisoning. I knew something wasn't right and I couldn't stop thinking about it.
I called 111 and they said they needed to speak to Matt himself, so I told him to call. Then all of a sudden I got a text from Matt saying he was in an ambulance.
I rushed to the hospital and spoke to one of the doctors there. He said to me, "Your life is never going to be the same again." Matt had a brain tumour. They told us he had a year to live.
Caring for Matt on my own
Over time, Matt's illness made him a completely different person.
He had to have surgery to remove a growth on the speech centre in his brain. After the surgery, he was really impulsive, always trying to escape out of his hospital bed. He became quite short tempered and angry a lot of the time.
He could speak a little bit but everything he said was so mumbled and jumbled. I was getting text messages from him that made absolutely no sense. It was horrendous.
Caring for Matt was exhausting mentally as well as physically. He used to have these seizures and I was constantly terrified that he was going to get hurt, worrying about the next seizure. I used to run round to neighbours' houses so they could help me move him because he was too heavy for me to lift by myself.
Then we met Susan, a Marie Curie Community Nurse. She sorted everything out. I quickly went from doing everything alone to having all these people in my house – nurses and occupational therapists and physiotherapists.
Susan told me I could get in touch with the nurses whenever I needed help with Matt which gave me the peace of mind I needed. Susan was just wonderful.
The Marie Curie Hospice
Eventually it became too difficult for Matt to be at home, so Susan helped me get him a place in a Marie Curie Hospice.
The first two staff members I met there were Lewis and Richard, both Healthcare Assistants. I'll always remember the first night when I left Matt, he had his sandwiches and his French onion soup – I'd told Lewis and Richard that it was his favourite – and they were like, 'Don't worry, we'll look after him.'
Matt couldn't speak at all by that point, but he always gave the boys a big thumbs up.
He didn't have a telly at first, but Lewis and Richard made it their mission to get him one.
I was allowed to bring Link, our little sausage dog, and that made such a difference to Matt and to Link as well – he was always looking for his dad at home.
Seeing Matt in pain and being able to press a buzzer and have a nurse come through and give him medication straight away was invaluable. It was so much better than having to figure it out myself or wait for an ambulance. Having that instant care made all the difference towards the end of Matt's life.
Saying goodbye
The night before Matt passed away, I somehow knew it was going to happen.
He'd been asleep the whole day and when I said bye to him, I squeezed his hand and told him I loved him. He opened his eyes, nodded at me, and went back to sleep. It was like he knew, too.
Then, in the morning, his mum and I were meant to be going to see him together, but something stopped me. I told her I'd let her have some time by herself with Matt, and that I'd come and join them in a bit.
Just before it happened, Matt's dad had left the room but the nurses came and grabbed him and told him to come back – they could tell he was about to die.
Marie Curie made the whole process just weirdly manageable. It sounds strange, but a hospice is like a good death, that's definitely what Matt got.
You can help us reach more families like Matt and Hayley's. By sponsoring a Marie Curie Nurse, you can help us be there for more people during their last months, days and hours. Sponsor a nurse and make sure no one is left to struggle when they need us most.
You can also support the Great Daffodil Appeal this March by donating and wearing your daffodil. Your donations will provide expert nursing care and support to families across the UK affected by terminal illness. Find out more about how you can get involved today.
