Fiona became a bereavement support volunteer after her mum, Dot, received Marie Curie care.
My mum went into the Marie Curie Hospice, Cardiff and the Vale, in December 2013. It was very sudden – it was stomach cancer. The mass was too large and it was too dangerous to treat, so they found her a place at the hospice. Alas, she was only there five days, but the care she received was phenomenal.
I didn't expect the hospice to be such a loving place
In the hospice, nothing's too much trouble. The day Mum arrived and she was still able to eat, all she wanted was ice cream. The fuss and love that they went to to make sure she got her ice cream was just lovely.
One particular nurse stands out in my mind. She was actually off-duty, but she stayed with me on the night my mum passed away and she spent the last couple of hours just sat talking to me.
She explained to me what was happening to my mum, things like how my mum's skin was changing colour. In a way, I suppose, preparing me for the inevitable. Even though I knew it was going to happen, it was nice to have somebody there holding my hand.
I didn't expect it to be such a loving place. The nurses and the doctors were just so caring.
Becoming a bereavement support volunteer
On the day Mum died there was a gentleman, obviously a volunteer, going around in the morning offering cups of tea or coffee. It was just the way he was with Mum, who was sadly unconscious at that stage. He was so lovely with her and showed me so much respect.
It was in that moment that I realised that once I'd got through it all, that I'd like to give something back.
I look for signs that people are struggling
I'm speaking with someone now who lost her husband about eight weeks ago. It's still very raw - they did everything together. We chat about anything she wants to bring up, and I'm there to be a listening ear.
She's not coping very well with it, so I said: "Look, I am a bit concerned and I'm going to go back to Marie Curie to see if I can get you some signposting for counselling." They came back very quickly with some counselling options. We call once a week, but I did give her another call yesterday just to make sure that she was okay.
I think she was just so appreciative of the fact that somebody understands and somebody listens. She's sobbing down the phone and I'm saying: "Don't be embarrassed about it; just let it out. Whatever you have to say, just do it."
It's not always easy, but it's worth it
There have been calls where I've put down the phone, emotionally drained and close to tears. Some calls just pierce my heart.
I supported a lady that lost her beloved daughter and that was one of the difficult moments. After our call, I went to the toilet and I thought: "Oh, I'm going to have a cry."
But it's worth the hard times for how it makes me feel when I put the phone down and think about what I've learned from them, and the love and support I hope I've given back. I make sure I do things for my wellbeing: I'm a member of a rock choir and I sing.
I hope I manage to help people feel that they're being listened to, that they're not on their own. It might only be in a small way, but you've managed to give some love back to them. I'm very proud to volunteer for Marie Curie.
Now more than ever, we need your help to support people at the end of life, whatever the illness and wherever they are. Whether raising funds for critical end of life care, or offering a supportive ear like Fiona, your time can make a difference.
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