Linda Kerr
Carol's daughter, Linda, tells us about her experience: "I was with mum when she was diagnosed with tumours in her bowel on 25 January 2013 (Burns Night). Mum was a coeliac and she was at her regular two yearly check-up when we got the news.
"After that mum had a round of chemo, and for a while it worked, then it didn’t. She went through another round of chemo and her hair fell out, but if you’d met her, you’d have never have said she was ill. She would go to her chemo and then we’d go shopping. She was always immaculately turned out with her make up on and her handbag.
"On 12 January 2015 a doctor told us they were stopping mum's chemo and that there was nothing else that could be done for her.
"She said that the GP would sort out mum’s pain management. I think we’d met this doctor only once before. We weren’t taken into a side room, we were on a busy ward with nine other people receiving chemo treatment around us. The way the doctor told us, didn’t just affect us, but everyone around us who would be dreading being told the same news. I understand there’s never a good way to deliver the news, but there should be a better way. I felt that the doctor who told us could have done with a course in compassion.
"Dad and I cared for mum in her home until a Macmillan nurse put us in touch with Marie Curie. After that we had a Marie Curie nurse visit us and she was wonderful. The first night the nurse stayed over, my dad slept for the first time in two weeks.
"Another nurse called Marjorie came round a few days after and gave us a hug which was just what we needed. She told dad to carry on as normal and just forget that she was there. I left around midnight that night and I knew that mum was well cared for.
"Mum died peacefully on Thursday 29 January 2015, I was with her and so was dad. We had two nights of the Marie Curie service and until you need it you don’t know that it exists. Three days before mum passed away, the service just clicked in, and it was unbelievable."