Christmas with chemo

When cancer dominates the festive season

After almost a year of intense chemotherapy, Suki reached the maintenance stage of cancer treatment in early December. But while we were hospital on 22 December, Suki started to feel unwell, she spiked a temperature and was admitted to hospital that same day. Bloods were taken and Suki started on intravenous antibiotics straight away. Her daily chemotherapy was stopped immediately to give her body a chance to fight the infection. Suki also had to remain in isolation, due to her very low immunity; so no venturing out of her hospital room. She couldn’t join in activities in the hospital playroom or even walk along the corridor. Her bloods came back as being neutropenic, which meant she had very little in her own system to fight the virus. Suki’s body was weak and frail; she was very hot, lethargic and aching all over. Nearly a year into treatment by then, we were used to this kind of temperature spike and hospital admission, but the worry that comes with it is always the same, your child’s life is always at risk at times like this, and that pounding in your heart is always there.

Suki spends Christmas Eve in a hospital bed

Suki contracted a virus and her temperature was soaring on Christmas Eve. As the Salvation Army band played carols in the corridor outside her hospital room, Suki looked on hooked up to drips and machines; tears quietly rolled down my face, it felt like we were living a dream. She bedded herself down for yet another night in isolation; very quickly realising we’d be in hospital on Christmas Day, she sobbed. Having a two-year-old daughter and husband at home, we then had to come up with another manic plan of action as to how to work through the logistics of the next few days, and still in some way make sure Christmas was special for our girls. Pete came to hospital with our younger daughter late on Christmas Eve. I then returned home with Betsie, it was a quiet journey watching the twinkling lights and others bustling about sorting last-minute errands. Laying out stockings, a mince pie and carrot at home was a real lump-in the-throat moment, knowing Suki was lying in a hospital bed nearly an hour’s drive away.

Keeping the magic of Christmas alive on the ward

Christmas morning I woke at home with our younger daughter. It was such a strange feeling, it was the first Christmas where Betsie had an inkling that it was special day, but this was far from normal, it felt so quiet and still. I took photos as evidence the Big Man had visited and jumped in the car to hospital. It was undoubtedly the quickest journey I’ve ever had to hospital, very little else is on the road at 8am on Christmas morning! We spent Christmas Day in hospital as a family of four and in fact had such a special day. Suki herself was starting to respond well to the antibiotics, which made a huge difference enabling her to enjoy the day. The staff were all simply amazing, they went above and beyond in everything they did. A senior doctor dressed up as Father Christmas and got grilled by our two-year-old in hilarious fashion…questioning his choice of footwear, where he’d parked his sleigh, the state of his beard etc! Another doctor performed a hilarious routine with his pet (puppet) singing turkey on his shoulder, apparently something of legend on the hospital ward! We all enjoyed a delicious Christmas dinner, albeit eaten in shifts, balanced on laps, me at Suki’s bedside, the others in the hospital play room. We had crackers, and gifts donated by local companies. Knowing so many special people were giving up time with their own families to look after our poorly daughter made it an incredibly emotional and heart-warming day. It truly made us realise how lucky we were to have each other and really that was all that mattered.