“After a difficult labour, I went straight to the Hospice to show her to my mum. She was very weak but managed to touch and kiss Lottie. Mum had held on to life just long enough to see her new granddaughter.”
Lucy Nibbs shares her mum's story of misdiagnosis and how she managed to hold on just long enough to meet her newborn granddaughter.
“It all started around five years before my mum was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, when she had her thyroid removed. They found some cancer in her thyroid, so it had to be taken out. We thought everything was going to be okay. It wasn’t that serious, and she had a bit of radiotherapy but not chemotherapy. She seemed to get better.
“Then, about 18 months before the pancreatic cancer diagnosis, she was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. This diagnosis shocked us all given her healthy lifestyle, she was not overweight, did not smoke, did not drink, and walked everywhere. She was immediately put on insulin, but no one provided a clear explanation for the sudden onset of diabetes. There was some suggestion it might be related to her thyroid removal and the hormonal imbalances that followed.
“Despite her illness, my mother carried on as if nothing was wrong. She never complained, but we could tell she felt terrible. Her blood sugar levels were out of control despite doing everything right. Then, about six months before her pancreatic cancer diagnosis, she began to lose weight rapidly and felt nauseous often. She made light of her weight loss, joking about it, but it was clear she wasn’t well. It wasn’t until she admitted she couldn’t get off the toilet that I knew something was seriously wrong. She was very private about such things, so for her to disclose this meant she was very unwell.
“She had lost about two stone by this point and had been seeing doctors, who attributed everything to her diabetes. Her persistent weight loss and frequent bathroom visits were brushed off as symptoms of her poorly controlled diabetes. However, when her back pain became unbearable three months before her diagnosis, we knew it was time to push for more answers. I had a gut feeling something was terribly wrong.
“Then she started having a lot of pain, particularly back pain, about three months before the diagnosis. One time she stayed at my house, and I saw her in agony. I offered her some co-codamol, but she only wanted paracetamol. Eventually, I persuaded her to go to the doctors again. I had a horrible gut feeling about what was going on because I kept seeing news articles about pancreatic cancer, and the symptoms matched what she was experiencing. We all pushed her to get further tests, and in March 2011, they finally listened and sent her for scans.
“The day she had her scans was the same day I had a pregnancy scan in a different hospital. My sister was with her. Two days later, she was called into the hospital. She went alone because she didn’t want anyone fussing over her. She was told she had advanced cancer that it had spread and there was nothing they could do.
“She called us all together to tell us the news. We all rushed to her house. Mum was living in Hertfordshire, while my sister and I were in Brentwood, Essex, and my brother was in Kent. She had her partner, John, with her, but he was struggling to cope. She had been in work the day before and even wanted to go back the next day, but we insisted she stay home and spend all of her remaining time with us.
“Later that week, she had another hospital appointment. They reiterated that it was too far gone and had spread to her liver and possibly her brain. They asked about her lifestyle, and she told them she didn’t drink or smoke. The doctor suggested her stressful life might have been a factor, considering the constant fluctuations in her hormone levels.
“The doctors offered chemotherapy, but it wouldn’t give her much longer. John, her partner wanted her to have it, but she refused, not wanting to prolong her suffering. So, she decided against any treatment.
“During this time, I was getting bigger as my pregnancy progressed. I wanted her to stay with me, but she wanted to be in her little cottage in Kings Langley. It was a beautiful place, and she loved living there with John. Despite our efforts, she stayed there. She was at home for two weeks, during which my sister and I visited daily, trying to cook meals she fancied but couldn’t eat.
“She became very unwell, and the Macmillan Cancer nurses suggested she go to the Hospice of Saint Francis in Berkhamsted for respite care. The hospice staff were incredible, making her comfortable and managing her pain effectively. She briefly returned home but quickly went back to the hospice, where she stayed for about three months.
“During this time, she had a birthday party and a blessing with John. They couldn’t get married because she was still legally married to my dad, though they were separated and still friends. She wanted to divorce him before she died, which they managed just in time.
“On 8th July 2011, she had her birthday. On 12th July 2011, she had the blessing with John at the hospice. It was a beautiful ceremony, even though she was too weak to get out of bed. She wore a wedding dress my sister bought for her, and we took photos with her in bed surrounded by family.
“Then, on 27th July 2011, I gave birth to my daughter, Lottie. After a difficult labour, I went straight to the hospice to show her to my mum. She was very weak but managed to touch and kiss Lottie. Mum had held on to life just long enough to see her new granddaughter.
“Just five days later on 1st August 2011, I went home for my middle daughter’s sixth birthday. We went out for a meal, and then I got a call from the hospice saying I needed to come back. My mum was nearing the end. My sister and I rushed there, John was already there and my brother, living in Kent, arrived later.
“When we got there, I knew it was time. My sister went out to make some calls, and I stayed with mum, singing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” to her. She passed away as I sang, peacefully and without pain. My sister returned, and we called the nurse to confirm it.
“Mum passed away on 1st August 2011. Despite the sadness, there were moments of dark humour and family jokes. On 18th August 2011, we had mum’s funeral.
“Losing Mum was one of the hardest experiences of my life, her strength and humour in the face of adversity was incredible. Despite the pain and sadness, I find comfort in knowing she is at peace.”