by Andy Halpin
Annette did not feel sick and we went for a weekend break to Wexford in early December. As far as I can remember she was able to eat her meals but at a somewhat slower pace. But coming up to Christmas things suddenly got worse with regard to her swallowing ability.
On the Tuesday of Christmas week I persuaded Annette to go to the Eye and Ear hospital on Adelaide Road. We got to the “emergency” department at 5.10 p.m. to be told, with some glee by the receptionist that they did not see “throats” or “ears” after five, only ”eyes”, and they would not be open again till after Christmas.
We left the hospital and headed down Grafton Street. We took in the Christmas atmosphere and had what turned out to be our last restaurant meal together in Bewleys, two bowls of soup, beef for me vegetable for Annette. Despite her inability to eat solids Annette was in good form and did not feel unwell. In our ignorance of how cancer operates this probably led us to a false sense that nothing too serious was wrong with her.
We went to Gina’s for Christmas dinner, which for Annette was mashed potato and jelly for afters. The danger signals were now flashing brightly.
Annette went back to the doctor the day after Stephen’s Day. After examining her he wanted her to go to Tallaght Hospital for an MRI-scan. At this point we wanted to find out what Annette’s problem was without further delay so we opted to go to the Beacon Clinic and have the scan done there instead of waiting around Tallaght for days.
Myself, Annette and Robert went to the Beacon Clinic at two o’clock on Monday, 29th December, 2008, the day our world was turned upside down and control of our lives was taken from us. The day we became like dead fish floating in a river not knowing what was happening to us.
Annette was treated with full professionalism by the doctors in the Beacon, but when we presented ourselves at the reception desk all the receptionist seemed to be interested in was if we could afford to be there. We were never asked what was wrong, who was the patient, were they in pain, or did we want a glass of water. We were shown a “menu” with prices and asked how we wished to pay for whatever it was we wanted. I really felt that if I had queried anything on the price list security would have been called and we would have been thrown out. What an introduction to a “caring” institution. But as I have said, once passed the reception Annette was treated without delay and with all due care.
After the scan was taken we were asked to wait for the result and were given a cup of tea. We did not have to wait long. When the doctor came back with the result of the scan his words were the beginning of our lives being shattered. He said the scan had shown up something, possibly a tumour, maybe cancerous, but more tests would have to be carried out to ascertain that.
At the mention of the word cancerous Annette and I looked at each other in shock and disbelief. At no time since Annette had developed her sore throat had we ever thought of it being cancer. Cancer was just not on the radar. She was not sick, or at that time losing weight, cancer was just not possible. I thought people with cancer were very sick and in pain, with the weight falling off them. Annette did not fit into that category at all.
I held Annette’s hand as the doctor continued. He said he was going to make arrangements for Annette to go to St. James’s hospital for further tests as they did not have the necessary facilities in the Beacon. When Annette asked when this would be, he replied “straight away”. He felt that it was important that she should begin getting treatment as soon as possible as the tumour was quite large.
I asked if we would have to go to the A & E and wait half the night before being seen, but he said no, he would contact a Dr. O’Neill right away. He told us to go to the triage nurse and we would be seen without delay.
In a state of shock we thanked him and went back to the waiting area. We told Robert we had to go to St. James’s immediately. I don’t know if we mentioned cancer to him at that point, we possibly only said at that time that his Mam had to have more tests carried out. We paid the bill at ‘Checkpoint Charlie’ and headed for St. James’s hospital without delay.
When we reached St. James’s we went straight to the triage nurse’s office as instructed. She was expecting us and took us through to an area at the back of the A & E Department where we were told Dr. O’Neill would be with us as soon as possible. He had been called to Tallaght Hospital so we had to wait until he came back. After about an hour Dr. O’Neill arrived. He was a tall, youngish man with a very nice manner.
He obviously had the report from the Beacon Clinic, so he spoke to Annette about what he was going to do. He had to put a camera down the back of her throat, through her nose to look at whatever was there. He did this with the minimum of discomfort to Annette and what he saw was serious. Dr. O’Neill confirmed that there was a large tumour in her throat but he could not at this point say whether it was cancerous or not. Further tests and a biopsy would have to be carried out.
He said he wanted Annette to stay in St. James’s that night as he was anxious that she get a bed and be in the hospital when full services were resumed after the New Year. This was a further shock to us as we had not at all expected Annette to have to stay in overnight but Dr. O’Neill was insistent that this was the best course of action. With the New Year coming up in a day or two, if Annette waited any longer to secure a bed she might not get one. He said that she could go home the next day and come back that night as he only wanted her to have a bed to be sure she would get treated as soon as possible.
This was an entirely unexpected development that we just were not prepared for. Annette protested that she had no clothes with her but Dr O’Neill said that was not a problem as the hospital would supply her with a night dress and she could go home the next day and bring back whatever she needed.
I knew at this point that things were serious, so I said to Annette that I thought she should do as the doctor wanted. I promised I would collect her the following morning and bring her home and she could pick up any clothes she needed. Dr O’Neill said she could do this for the next few days, go home each day but be back in the hospital by nine o’clock at night until after the new year when she would have to stay in and have the tests done.
Reluctantly Annette agreed to this. Dr O’Neill then said he would make arrangements for Annette to have a bed as soon as possible. He told us to wait in the area behind the A & E and when a bed was ready Annette would be called. This was at about nine or nine thirty.
By eleven o’clock that night Annette was in a bed in St. John’s Ward. Myself and Robert stayed with Annette for a while. When the nurse brought her the night clothes we had to say our goodbyes. I slept alone that night, the start of what was to become long, lonely nights in the big, empty bed.
The next day I told Gina and David what had happened in the Beacon. I then went in on the Luas to collect Annette and bring her home. At that point we did not know how serious this would turn out to be. Although cancer had been mentioned, we were not convinced or prepared to believe that Annette actually had cancer, cancer happened to other people, not to us. Anyway, Annette looked too well to have cancer, she wasn’t sick. The tests would show the doctors’ suspicions were wrong. It was probably only an abscess or something like that. These were the thoughts I was arming myself with as I refused to face the possibility that there was something serious wrong with Annette.
When Annette came home the next day she packed a bag with night clothes and other stuff for what she was hoping would be a short stay in St. James’s. We then had some soup and headed into town to meet Gina. We were taking Senan and Ella to the pantomime in the Olympia. That’s how ‘sick’ Annette felt, she was still doing all the ordinary things expected of a nana at Christmas time. It was what was giving us hope that the doctors were wrong about a cancerous tumour causing her swallowing problems.
After the show, Gina collected the children from us at the Olympia and we all went to the film centre. We had coffee and soup, with ice cream for the children before Annette and I headed back to the hospital for 9 p.m. I stay
ed with Annette until after 11 p.m. when I left to get the Luas home, feeling good that Annette felt and looked so well.
The next day was New Years Eve, always a big day for Annette and me. We always had some kind of a celebration on New Years Eve. The year before we had gone to a favourite restaurant of ours, Tante Zoe’s in Temple Bar. We’d had a meal and then met Annette’s sisters in the Sheldon Hotel where we celebrated until about two o’clock in the morning. As things turned out that was to be the last time we would celebrate a New Year’s Eve together.
I went to St. James’s early on Wednesday morning to collect Annette. We went to the Square in Tallaght as Annette wanted to get some things for her stay in hospital. She met some friends in the Square who were very surprised when she told them of the recent developments. They commented on how well she looked.
We went home and I made Annette some soup which she was able to drink. We had a snooze for a while in the afternoon before Robert came down to bring us back to the hospital that evening. Before going to the hospital we had a glass of wine to celebrate the New Year. This was also the first time we talked about what was happening. Up to this point we had avoided any serious talk, and although cancer had been mentioned we avoided talking about it. Even then when Annette asked me what I thought was going to happen I assured her that she would be fine. I said that I did not believe it was cancer as she did not look like someone who had a serious illness and she was not losing weight. I tried to convince her (and myself) that everything was going to be alright. I took her in my arms, and as I held her we both shed a few tears.
Robert and I stayed with Annette until about eleven o’clock on New Years Eve. I kissed her and wished her a Happy New Year, telling her that normal service would be resumed next year.
Robert stayed with me that night and we had a few bottles of beer in the house. At midnight we went out onto the green and wished some neighbours a Happy New Year. When they asked about Annette I just said she had to go into hospital for some tests and she should be out in a couple of days.
We kept up the routine of Annette spending the days at home and going back to the hospital every night until Sunday, when she would go in for good. I went in on the Luas to collect her on Sunday morning, but since the day was very bad, cold and raining, we got a taxi home. We stopped at a shop in Springfield to pick up a few fire logs and a small bag of coal. I lit the fire and made soup for Annette and we had it in front of the fire. It was a miserable day, but the fire was cheerful. After we had the soup we sat on the couch and began to snooze.
After a while Annette asked me if I would I like to go up to bed. She said this might be the last chance we would have for a while to make love. While I always wanted to make love to Annette I was conscious of the fact that she was sick. I did not want to be selfish or make her feel she had to do it just because she was going into hospital for a while. I told Annette this, but she said she would like to, and she felt fine. We put the fireguard in front of the fire, locked the door, went up to bed and made love for the last time.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Later that evening Robert drove us to the hospital and Annette started what was to be the final stage of her own journey in this life. When the hospital got back to full service the next day the doctors visited Annette and made arrangements for her to have more tests and a biopsy.
On the morning of the biopsy I went down later than usual as I knew she would be in the theatre. By this time Annette had been shifted to Private Two in St. James’s and she had a room of her own. When I looked into the room at about twelve o’clock it was empty. I went to the nurses’ station and asked about Annette. The nurse told me she had had to have a tracheostomy and would be back later as she was in recovery. I just said, “Oh did she.” I didn’t have a clue at that point what a tracheostomy was, as no one had mentioned it to us or the fact that Annette might need one.
I went for a walk and came back an hour or so later. Annette was back in her room. When I saw her I was shocked. She was still groggy after her operation, but what was shocking was the sight of the tube sticking out of her throat. She was very tired so I only stayed a while but before I left I asked the nurse about the tube in her throat. I was told it was to help her breathe. But as she’d never had any difficulty breathing I did not understand this explanation. The nurse told me that the doctors would be around later and they would speak to me about it.
I honestly can’t remember what I did then but later that evening I went back to the hospital. While I was sitting in the room with Annette, who was sleeping and who could not talk because of the tracheostomy, a Dr. Tynan and his team came around.
Now Dr. Tynan was not Annette’s doctor. She had, as I understood it, been under the care of Dr. Kinsella, whom we had spoken to. He had told us about the biopsy but had not mentioned anything about a tracheostomy nor indeed about Annette’s breathing being a problem.
Dr. Tynan called me out of the room and I asked him about the tube in Annette’s throat. He said that he had had to perform a tracheostomy because he believed that had he not done so Annette would have gone into respiratory arrest in a few days. There was a danger he believed that her air tube would close, at which point an emergency tracheotomy would have been necessary. I tried to say that there was nothing wrong with her breathing yesterday and that Dr. Kinsella had not said anything to us about a tracheotomy being necessary, but he continued talking, he said that Annette had a very large tumour in her throat which he believed would have impinged on her air tube and prevented her breathing in a very short time. He continued, saying it was inoperable and nothing could be done for her. He said they could not cure her.
I stood listening to this in a daze. I heard the words he was saying but I was trying not to. I felt like putting my hands over my ears and running away. He was speaking in a not very sympathetic and matter-of-fact way. I broke down and started to cry.
One of his team tried to console me as Dr. Tynan continued talking. He asked if I had a family, and when I said I had, he said I should inform them straight away. I said I would tell them tomorrow, as it was now after nine o’clock, but he said, no, tell them tonight.
I was now in a state of shock. I thought Annette would not last the night. I think at this point Dr. Tynan said he was sorry to have to give me such bad news but there was nothing they could do for Annette, the tumour was too large and it may have spread. Again he told me to go home and tell the family. He said that Annette would be alright that night.
Dr. Tynan and his team then left me with the ward nurses who offered me a cup of tea. I refused the tea and went back into Annette’s room. She was still sleeping so I kissed her and sat with her for a few minutes. After being assured by the nurses that she would be alright that night, I went home.
I think I cried all the way home in the Luas as I tried to come to terms with what I had been told. Suddenly everything had changed. From the optimism of a few days ago I was now faced with the total devastation of all hope. Annette was going to die, and nothing could be done about it. I did not know what to do about telling the family. Should I tell them tonight or wait until tomorrow? But that decision was made for me.
As I was walking home crying after getting off the Luas, my mobile rang. It was Annette’s brother Liam. I answered, choking with tears. When he asked about Annette I just blurted it all out. Liam asked where I was and I told him I was on my way home. He asked if there was anyone with me and I said no, so Liam insisted on coming over to be with me.
As I turned the corner to our house I saw Robert’s car outside the door. I went in, and still crying told Robert the awful news. I could do nothing but sit on the couch and cry. I told Robert that Liam was on his way over. Robert then rang Gina and David and told them, I spoke to both of them and told them that nothing would happen that night and not to come over to the house. They were both very upset at this completely unexpected turn of events. None of us had had any doubts that Annette would get better, losing her was the last thing on our m
inds. This was turning into a nightmare.
Liam arrived soon afterwards. He was also very upset and could not believe what was happening. We tried to rationalise it, but it just did not make sense, Annette had not been sick, she only had a sore throat and could not swallow. People did not die from a sore throat. As we were talking Gina arrived. She was very distressed and had got a taxi over from Celbridge. We went over the whole thing, again and again, but we just could not accept what we had been told.
After cups of tea and biscuits and endlessly dissecting what the doctor had said it was now very late. I told Gina to go home and we would go to the hospital tomorrow and speak to Annette’s own doctor, Dr Kinsella, about what could be done. Liam said he would tell the sisters when he got home. They left but Robert insisted on staying with me that night. We were now really feeling like the dead fish in a river, we were just been carried along by events, with no control whatsoever over our final destination.
I went into the hospital the next morning and was amazed to find Annette up out of the bed. She was in the bathroom, washing herself. This was the woman who had undergone a very serious operation, and who I had been told had inoperable cancer. Now here she was looking remarkably well, standing in front of the bathroom mirror having a wash. As I kissed her the nurse came in. She said she had never seen anyone up and about the day after a tracheostomy operation. But despite looking so well Annette was upset about the tracheostomy. Like me she had not expected it, and as she indicated to me that she could not talk, tears filled her eyes. She came out of the bathroom and got back into bed.
I didn’t know what to say to her as I was totally in the dark about the trachie myself, and had not yet spoken to Dr. Kinsella. The only way we could now communicate was by me talking and Annette writing her replies in a copy book. She asked me about the tracheostomy and why she had to have it. I told her what Dr Tynan had told me about his fear that her air tube was about to close.