Teacher Sandra Hudson is a terminal bowel cancer patient being treated at the Bexley Wing at St James’s in Leeds. She loved her job, but had to retire on ill health grounds. In January 2017 she had a prolapsed womb meaning that in April she had to have a hysterectomy. She went home the next day but then she found it difficult going to the toilet. She was advised to have an enema. A few days later her bowel was distended and she was advised that it couldn’t be related to the hysterectomy and must be something else. She was admitted to hospital and a tube was passed down her nose to drain her bowel and throughout the night she had some scans. At this point she was relieved and excited that they would sort out her bowel issues.
The next day the doctor told Sandra the unexpected, that she had bowel, liver, lungs, and lymph nodes affected. It was a shocking terminal diagnosis and she would require palliative care. She was on her own on taking this in, and was offered a nurse to sit with her to digest what she had just heard. She rang her husband who was at work expecting that she was ringing with good news, but sadly she broke the bad news to him and obviously he was in shock and devastated. It was extremely sad for him breaking the news of cancer to their two children and both sets of parents.
After 12months of chemotherapy and a complete response to her liver and lungs, she was able to have bowel surgery and her lymph nodes removed. She was technically cancer free though there were 2 nodules in her lungs which proved to be the regrowth of 2 tumours. She has had regular three-monthly scans and this showed that cancer had appeared again in her lungs. Tumour growth then brought worries again and more chemotherapy. She feels that she is getting the best possible care, and she positively copes with overcoming the side effects of treatment. She loves the company of her dog. She feels indebted to the staff at Jimmies for their exceptional care. She is grateful for every day and oozes positivity ensuring that life is never on hold. Family and friends mean the world to her and she doesn’t take anything for granted.
Being knocked sideways, looking back Sandra says it was a blur! She was quite alone being treated for a bowel disorder, and not being on a cancer ward. She was told that realistically she had a life expectancy of two years and that surgery was not an option and that chemotherapy was her only way forward which was beyond scary. Today it’s four years on, with 65 cycles of treatment to date. Sandra has shown that positivity has worked well for her. Hospital visits are her fortnightly days out which she certainly makes the best of in writing amazing poetry to give hope to others. Here’s a sample of her humour and living with cancer to the best of her ability. I’m sure that you will agree its inspiration personified.
Sara Williamson
A day on the chemo ward
Another day on the chemo ward,
Not quite the same as being abroad.
But it is the only way,
To try to keep my cancer at bay.
At reception the staff know my face
3 years I’ve been coming to this place.
The staff always have a friendly smile
And try if they can, to chat a while.
They must wash their hands 100 times each day
They are very thorough, I have to say.
Always busy, rushing around
I don’t think their feet even touch the ground.
Treatment arrives, sometimes it’s late
But a day at Jimmy’s is my fate.
For my details they will always ask,
Difficult to understand me in the COVID mask.
They check the chemo and dates every time,
They have to make sure it is actually mine.
My port doesn’t always give back blood
But from my vein there is never a flood.
Up it goes the treatment is running
Soon the tea trolley will be coming.
Another person who looks after me,
With a smile, a biscuit and a cup of tea.
Other staff wiping down the place,
Not a trace of infection on any space.
Staff can’t always get a place to eat dinner
And when they do they must feel like a winner.
The stress of finding somewhere to eat
When all they want is to rest their feet.
Constant noises, the machines often bleep,
And next to me a man is asleep.
Another patient sits and reads a book
But I just like to sit and look,
At all the hard work of this fantastic staff
Who can sometimes manage time for a laugh.
It must be rewarding knowing people survive,
Knowing that they have kept us alive.
To this fantastic team, I have to say,
You are worth far more than your take home pay.
Keep smiling, talking and working hard,
I wish I’d bought you a ‘thank you’ card.
But I dedicate this poem to all of you