The Challinor story
Fundraising Stories
David, the man who turned my head in 1983, along with myself, Faye, our daughter, and Alex our son. We have braved the most awful, turbulent times, but never without a sense of team spirit in our unit, always with smiles for him, and as he used to insist – ‘c’mon, let’s get glammed up and out there!’
Meet David, my Man Mountain, we married in 1989, and had two children, Faye in 1990 & Alex 1993.
We created a real Happy Place in Rotherham, and started to carve out plans for retiring early – and aging disgracefully together, dreaming of being (as we thought) young at heart grandparents one day.
2013 –turning 50 – David launched his own Business ‘Superior Executive Travel’ – and with our network of family and friends – and my support in social media advertising, Business blossomed. By the end of that same year, I also took an opportunity to compromise out of my corporate role, and retire early. It was time to join Mr C and spend more time at home.
2014 – we walked literally, the dogs’ legs off, as we took advantage of every dry, enjoyed quality time together, and pictured how we might be as Grandparents one day ….But within a few months of helping Dave continue to realise his dreams in running and operating his own Business, I was missing full-time work – retirement wasn’t for me, so I hit the full-time workplace again. In July 2014 – we celebrated our Silver Wedding, and enjoyed a fabulous holiday like a couple of teenagers – I would turn back time in a heartbeat, and go and do it all over again, if I knew then, what I know now.
6th March 2015 is a very fond date locked in my memory banks, our last night out as a ‘normal’ couple – if you can call having a nominated driver for the night, getting as giddy as teenagers on prosecco, dancing in Leopold Square, and laughing until we ached. March 2015 – I was preparing for my next day’s work – flying to Ireland to discipline one of my team – that was as ugly as I thought my day could be. We retired to bed, said our usual goodnights, and snuggled in.
I was brutally awoken from a deep sleep at 2am, with what I thought was the love of my life having some kind of nightmare. I tried to wake him, but my efforts were quickly turned to just screaming for my children Faye and Alex to help. Ambulance services arrived in record time and assisted us in getting David to our local hospital. I could talk at length about the experience we had living the next 4 days, through various scans to then be told the crushing news ‘’it’s not good news’’ – the night time seizure was brought about as David had a mass in the Brain causing quite an amount of swelling. Biopsy by the end of the month, and then called to the Hallamshire to be given the firm diagnosis – here starts the day I became part of a medical world.
Google search on Oligodendroglioma went up a few notches as I spent many hours traveling by train, doing my research, holding down my job, all whilst watching my Man Mountain go about a ‘new normal.
We were booked for a scan 6 months later, and discharged with anti-seizure meds; along with a prognosis of ‘this is good news he’s got a low-grade glioma, and we know of patients surviving 10 years – it didn’t feel like good news.
We had no support from any medics, and together with Faye and Alex we again set about google search and closed ranks in watching him like a hawk.
18th September 2015, bizarrely the night before his 6 months booked scan we had a repeat of that awful night in March. Sadly on this occasion, David got no lapse from his seizures, they came & they came, brutally and back to back, giving his body no downtime to recover, he was placed into an induced coma and woken 24 hours later.
Our world had become anti-seizure meds, 3 monthly scans, and it was no surprise that the December 15 scan revealed tumor growth, and we were moved into talking about surgery.
2016 – In March we took our strength from him, and were blown away seeing him mentally prepare for lengthy brain surgery, most of which would be performed, whilst he was awake. 2016 can only be described as ‘endured’.
At the turn of 2017 David started describing blurred and colourful vision on waking; his handwriting had deteriorated completely, and at the point where he tried to make himself some beans on toast, by putting the toaster on our lit hob – I knew we were facing into more troubled waters. Invasive surgery, debilitating radio and chemo hadn’t stopped the tumour from growing again.
David was immediately bounced into more chemo and we were put in touch with Rotherham Hospice being given the revised prognosis of ‘think months not years’.
2017 – We were assigned, and felt an immediate connection with Joanne, our specialist nurse. David looked forward to all the home visits, and thoroughly enjoyed spending a day a week out of our usual 4 walls, and attending the Rotherham Hospice Day Ward. By Christmas Dave’s mobility was deteriorating. More pains were becoming evident, and he was clearly withdrawing from socialising with some family and friends.
We entered into 2018 with heavy hearts…
Returning from work one afternoon in January, earlier than planned, I thought to enjoy a cosy winters night in front of the TV – David was clearly unwell, still in bed – and couldn’t string one sentence for me without chasing a breath.
The ambulance crew on this occasion, quickly assessed David, my difficulty in supporting him at home, and instead of taking him to Rotherham Hospital, called the Hospice to see if a bed was available. David was lucid enough to agree that was the best place for him.
During his stay – and as a family unit – we knew again, we were riding into more rough seas ahead, and we were faced with whether we would get him home again, at all. The team taking care of David, I can’t thank highly enough – everyone we came into contact with, were friendly, caring, thoughtful, professional, sensitive and so much more.
Three weeks later, David was discharged for home in time for Valentine’s Day, and on the condition that we had arranged downstairs living for him. This was all arranged with some home care being put into place to support me and the regular nurse visits.
Faye had decided she wanted to marry Joe and christen our first grandson, Parker, creating more memorable days for the family in 2018. A boost in steroids, & a determined family beside him – he walked Faye into the Blacksmiths at Gretna Green to marry the love of her life; and on the Sunday of the same weekend, Parker was christened.
I have no doubt in my mind, David didn’t just see Parker born, he saw Faye & Joe married, Parker Christened, Alex turn 25 AND Parker turn one…as a result of the home care, we had in place, beautifully supported by regular visits from the hospice at home team.
I often ask myself where I gathered the strength, stamina and sometimes stoic quality to smile in the face of adversity and heartbreak….then I looked over my shoulder and felt the love and remote support of a full team of experts.
The hospice at home team worked at what Dave called ‘another level’ above the NHS nurses we experienced; it was like the whole career path and family life I started by describing at the start of my session today, had been quietly gleaned from us over time. Our personalities and needs were matched on every visit.
I could recall the hours, minutes and seconds of the 12th August 2018 – I was worried I wouldn’t know when it would be ‘time’. On reflection I now know that the relationships we have built with the Palliative teams at Rotherham Hospice, educated me brilliantly, prepared me for the worst, and I knew my man mountain better than anyone still.
David passed away exactly where he wanted to be, in his happy place. If there’s only one thing you can give to the love of your life – it’s to deliver the promise that he would be where he wanted to be, with whom he wanted to be with and looking totally gorgeous. Palliative Care throughout, extended to our full family unit – we were beaten and broken, burned out, bone-weary and bedraggled – BUT we have made friends that will remain in our lives; and we have already realised that a service such as the one we benefitted from, isn’t available everywhere, it is a bit of a postcode lottery – but why should that remain so.
Life was anything but boring with Mr C, from meeting and turning my head in 1983, and marrying in 1989 – he kept me on my toes right up until the end of his fight – and in fact, is still now, as we continue in his effort to raise charitable funds for the teams that kept us from falling to our knees.
I wouldn’t have wanted to be in our corner of the universe with anyone else but him. You just never know when tomorrow’s uncertainty might turn the corner to a family’s final answers, and a figurehead, a key stone, a man mountain, is cruelly removed. As your tomorrow starts with full diaries, and patients to see – someone’s world just permanently tilted on its axis….and there you are – always caring.
I have learned so much through living, googling, caring & sleeping with the enemy that was a Brain Tumour invading David. I am changed. I am sleep deprived but I am stronger. I am working out my next move. I am a great believer that I had been placed where I needed to be, and am still, in the meantime I am back at work, being a grandma, a mum, a mother in law, a Head of Marketing – and a chief cook and laundry fairy! Keeping myself busy, AND in training for the Yorkshire 3 Peaks in June!
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