Mary Luther's story (code ML0206/1)

 

It is November 1985 and our daughter had received two offers from universities and was to have an interview in December at another. My husband and I were pleased with ourselves that two out of our three children would go into higher education. Our daughter now seventeen was looking forward to spreading her wings. She was excited at the thought of leaving home. Then she found a lump in her armpit. She called me to the bathroom to feel it. I asked her how long it had been there and she did not seem to know. I felt it and, being a nurse, I immediately thought the worst. Cancer at that time was like a death sentence; well that was what I thought at the time.

I told her not to worry and that we'd see the doctor the next day. But we worried. It was the longest night of our lives. My husband and I slept very little tossing and turning most of the night too scared even to say the words we each wanted to say. The following morning when we got to the surgery our doctor was not at work and we saw a locum who was more concerned about her being anaemic than about the lump. The doctor said that it was there because she shaved under her arms and had probably grazed it at some time, and there was probably some infection there hence the lump. I was not happy about her diagnosis and asked to see a consultant.

We saw a consultant within a few days and she had a biopsy not long after that.

It took three weeks to get the result. I never stopped worrying or praying. I said to my husband that if the worst happened we had had seventeen years of joy and we had to be satisfied with God's plan for her.

Our daughter took it all in her stride and in fact went back to school two days after the operation with the stitches in place.

When we went for the result and the doctor told us that it was Hodgkin’s Disease (cancer of the lymph glands), I was glad that she asked him to explain it to her. I felt that everything had stopped. I thought that my next breath would not come. I turned to the only window in the room to compose myself. I dared not look at the others. I prayed to God to give me the strength to cope with the crisis, the worst we had had in our years of marriage.

As we were walking out of the hospital she said to me "Mother wait, am I going to die? You are my mother; you have to tell me the truth." I replied that I did not know and that we had to wait until we went to Christie Hospital in South Manchester. She accepted that answer and we drove to London to take her for the interview that she was to have at the university the following day. I will never know how my husband drove all that way after the news we had received but she insisted that she kept the appointment and we went along with her.

She was offered a place provided that she got the grades.

I knew there were kind people in the world but I never realized how many until we returned from London. The phone did not stop ringing for hours. Friends, family and colleagues all want to know the result of the tests and the prognosis. We were overwhelmed by kindness.

When we were alone my husband put his head on my shoulder and wept and wept. This alarmed me because in all the years we had been together, I had never seen him cry. He told me that I had to be the strong one because he just could not cope with the situation.

My daughter never asked questions or discussed what was happening. She seemed satisfied with the doctor's explanation. Her brothers stopped being boisterous and became quiet and very protective towards their sister, whereas before they treated her like another brother. I found it strange that the house was so quiet. I was used to being referee to fights, physical or verbal. This went on for weeks, which was also distressing. I kept on going to work because I needed some form of normality in our lives. Colleagues were great, they swapped shifts with me and were so considerate. It was surreal.

I worked at night so I was home alone during the day. I would weep when I came home in the morning. Surely our only daughter would not be taken from us. I slept very little during the day. Every time I closed my eyes I imagined that I could see my daughter in a coffin. This was a recurring dream and at times I was afraid to go to bed.

Three weeks after the diagnosis we went to Christie’s Hospital. The consultant was kind and reassuring. When he asked my daughter to go and get undressed, she quickly said to him, "Please don't say anything to my parents that you won't say to me. It is my body and I want to know what is going to happen to me." He told her that he would not do that. He went to examine her and waited until she returned before he told us anything. He gave us hope. He discussed the treatment and we all said we felt better.

From then on she was on a roller coaster of tests, after which came the staging operation at Hope Hospital in Salford. This operation determined the treatment she would have. A week after the operation she returned to Christie Hospital for radiotherapy which was to last for 6 weeks, every week Monday to Friday.

She was told that it was better not to go to school while she was having the treatment. The school told her if she missed more than four weeks’ new work that she would have to wait another year before she could take the A-level exams. She decided that she was not going to miss another year so she went to school in the morning and had her treatment in the afternoon.

My husband and I learnt several lessons from our daughter. She was so determined to get to university. We made it clear that she did not have to go. It was not that important and it was the least of her worries.

One morning after a shower, she was so exhausted that I had to help her to get dressed. I told her to stay at home that day, she said, "You should be encouraging me to go, I am not staying at home.” I drove her to school and fully expected the school to phone for me to collect her but there was no call.

It is extremely painful watching my child suffer and could do nothing to help. The radium burnt her mouth and damaged her taste buds. We had to force her to eat and then she ate very little. She lost two-and-a-half stones and she looked like a skeleton.

It was not easy going to the hospital every day We were all exhausted all of the time but she never complained. My husband and I cried and prayed, cried and prayed. It was a test for us and because our daughter was so brave, she kept us going. When she had finished the radiotherapy we breathed a sigh of relief.

She passed her A-levels and went to university. It was not easy for her. She was in academic isolation for her final exam. This meant she was ill and placed in the sick bay and was only allowed to see a tutor and the sick bay staff while she wrote her papers. Again she did not want to put off the exam for the next year. She got her degree and went on to do post graduate work.

This happened almost twenty years ago. We have had some hiccoughs but as a family we have supported her through it all, but it was her determination that gave us strength. Although she will have to attend Christie Hospital for the rest of her life, things have gone well for her. She is now married with two healthy, beautiful girls and a supportive husband. I look back to that time and thank God for sparing her life and best of all for giving us grandchildren.

Writing this has brought back so many memories good ones and painful ones, the support of relatives, friends, and colleagues that kept us going. As a family we coped with an almost overwhelming crisis and came through it stronger people. If you are having a similar crisis, I hope that when you read this you will feel that there is light at the end of the tunnel and after a storm there is always calm.