Sam Perry, Bourne, Lincolnshire
I lost my beautiful and brave mum to bowel cancer on 1 January 2022 aged 54.
My beautiful mum fought bowel cancer courageously for three long years before her body finally succumbed to the disease on the 1 January 2022. It was October 2018 that my wonderful mum was first diagnosed with bowel cancer. Those initial weeks were extremely tough as we anxiously awaited scan results to confirm the severity of the disease. We were all so relieved when the consultant explained that they believed the cancer to be stage 1 as no lymph nodes were showing up on the scans.
Mum went on to have a bowel resection at the beginning of December 2018, she was quite poorly for a few weeks post-surgery. We believed that she was now on the road to recovery, however she received a call a week later in which the surgeon confirmed that the cancer was stage 3 as five out of the 18 lymph nodes removed were cancerous. Not the best news, however mum was reassured that this was still very treatable.
On 28 January 2019 mum started six months of Capox chemotherapy regime. Those six months saw lots of highs and just as many lows. As the cycles progressed, she became more poorly and found it harder to recover from each cycle. However, the end of July 2019 soon came around and mum had an end of treatment scan which came back clear. We were all elated, we believed we would finally be able to get on with our lives again.
We went on a family holiday at the beginning of September to celebrate, and over the coming months my parents enjoyed many a short break and my sister and I many a shopping day and girly cocktail evening with mum. Life was back to normal. Mum had her second follow up CT scan at the end of January 2020 which we were elated to learn was also clear. The day after receiving the brilliant news I found out I was pregnant, we were all over the moon, my parents had longed for the day that they would become grandparents, everything felt like it was finally falling back into place.
Although March saw the beginning of the pandemic and the start of mum having to shield due to being clinically vulnerable, she was still in high spirits, we would FaceTime numerous times a day and talk of our excitement about the little person growing inside of me. Mum had her routine bloods taken at the end of May 2020, her CEA had gone up to 22, the nurses tried to provide reassurance, advising that there could be many reasons for this, however booked an expedited CT scan. We soon found out that the cancer had spread to the liver, devastated was an understatement! Considering we were in the middle of a pandemic things moved quickly, a PET scan was carried out shortly afterwards which highlighted a few queries, one being an indeterminate spot on the lung and the other a hot spot on a rib, after further investigation they believed the rib was previous trauma and the lung was something they would continue to monitor.
Mum had a liver resection on 1 September 2020, unfortunately due to COVID restrictions we were unable to visit for her nine day hospital stay which was soul destroying for us, but even more so for my poor mum who felt so poorly and wanted nothing more than to see the people she loved the most. Recovery from this operation was a lot tougher, but like the trooper that she was, mum soldiered on and continued to improve, she told us that her driving force was the imminent arrival of her granddaughter.
Darcey May was born on 5 October 2020, she really was the apple of mum's eye, we believed her arrival was the start of a new chapter for us all. It was recommended post-surgery that mum complete a three month course of mop up chemotherapy, she definitely seemed to struggle more with chemotherapy the second time around, however she tried her best to get on with it and on her good days would make the most of her new found granny duties. Whilst on chemotherapy mum's CEA rose to over 200 which set alarms bells ringing. The consultants decided to pause chemotherapy and undertake a PET scan to see what was going on, by this point we were all feeling very anxious. The scan took place on 27 December 2020 and the results were given on 6 January 2021. I think we all knew the cancer had returned, but I don't think we were prepared for the severity of the situation. Mum's cancer was back in the liver, but had also spread to the ribs, the spine, the pelvis and the left femur bone. There are no words other than complete devastation. I think a small part of me lost mum that day, the day we were told that she wouldn't make old age.
Mum was my world... She was one of the kindest and most caring people I have ever met, always putting the needs of others before her own. She lit up a room with her infectious smile, she was the life and soul, the first one on the dance floor...
The hospital moved quickly, two days later mum started a course of Folfiri chemotherapy regime. On the whole she managed okay on this regime and for the best part of eight months it managed to keep the disease stable. It was in August 2021 that Mum began to suffer with headaches and we noticed a couple of lumps had appeared on her head, this was highlighted to the consultants and they agreed to complete scans. Our worst fears were confirmed, the cancer had now spread to the skull and was pushing on a part of the brain which controlled speech and behaviour. Chemotherapy was stopped immediately and radiotherapy commenced the following week. Mum completed a five day intense course of radiotherapy to the skull and brain. Initially she seemed to cope okay, but after a few weeks it became clear this was potentially the start of the end. The NHS could only offer Lonsurf chemotherapy and after some reading it was apparent that this was not always very effective. As a family we made the decision to explore the private route, the consultant suggested that Avastin may be an option combined with a rechallenge of Folfox. Mum was able to complete one cycle of this regime before her health began to deteriorate.
Mum was admitted to hospital on 23 November 2021 with a bowel obstruction, my dad was advised by professionals that mum was too weak for surgical intervention and therefore this could potentially be life threatening, however, after a few short hours the obstruction miraculously resolved itself and mum was able to come back home the following day to her family. Chemotherapy was put on hold until she was able to show signs of improvement with her health. By this points mum's mobility had worsened drastically and she was losing her independence, it was beyond heart breaking to witness. I believe at this stage we knew that mum wasn't going to get better. We tried to keep some normality for her, I enjoyed nothing more than sitting next to mum whilst she laid in her hospital bed, chatting away, eating sweets and watching films on Netflix. On Christmas Eve 2021 Mum was diagnosed with a chest infection, she didn't seem too poorly in herself but the doctors prescribed some antibiotics for reassurance. On Christmas day itself mum appeared a little sleepier, however she seemed quite happy watching her beloved granddaughter rip open her Christmas presents.
It was 27 December that mum was blue lighted to hospital for the final time, she had become very ill very quickly. She was diagnosed with sepsis and pneumonia, we were told at this stage there was a 50% chance she would survive the infection. Mum fought on for as long as she could but her body could not endure anymore and she passed away peacefully with my dad and sister holding her hands on 1 January 2022. Mum endured so much suffering over her three year cancer battle, she showed courage and resilience in abundance, she continued to fight the disease until she couldn't fight anymore just so she could spend more time with us, for this we are proud of her beyond measure.
To say we are heartbroken is an understatement. Mum was my world, she was my best friend and the person I spoke to about everything. She was one of the kindest and most caring people I have ever met, always putting the needs of others before her own. She lit up a room with her infectious smile, she was the life and soul, the first one on the dance floor and the first one to ask if it was Prosecco o'clock. The day I lost her I lost a part of me, my heart will remain broken forever. She taught me what unconditional love was and if I can be even half as good of a mum to my little girl as mum was to me and my sister then that will be more than enough. I know that we will be back together one day, but until then I intend to live my life in a way that I know she would be proud of.
