Page 15 - She's One Crazy Lady!

visits to doctors and appointments at the hospital it was confirmed that the cancer had returned and had spread to other organs. It was now deemed ‘terminal’.
It was so hard for us all, especially for her family and friends who I had got to know well. Again, we talked for hours. Sue gave it all she’d got but was aware she wouldn’t get better. Near the end she was admitted to the Cynthia Spencer Hospice in Northampton. One day when I went to see her, I was so pleased she felt well enough for us to share some fun and reflective moments, but I chose to leave prematurely when her family arrived as I didn’t want to intrude on their precious time together. Sue asked if we could have a hug. As we hugged, she whispered in my ear,
“Will you promise me something?”
“If I can, of course I will.”
“The bastard’s got me. It mustn’t get anyone else. Promise me Crazy
Hats will go on to help others.”
I promised.
They were the last words we shared.
Sue died at home just a few days later. I saw her the night before
she died, holding her hand, and gently talking to her as she peacefully slept. When Graham, her devoted partner, called the next morning telling me she had slipped away I was truly devastated and surprised at how I reacted when I put the phone down. I was so emotional. The instant sense of grief and loss was immense. Why? It was the reality of what breast cancer could do, and does indeed do, that hit me. That’s why. The reality was – breast cancer can kill. Breast cancer had taken such a lovely person, leaving behind an equally lovely family, friends and colleagues. It was frightening. The immediate void was huge. Sue was the first person I had known to die of breast cancer. How could this happen? I felt guilty. If she’d had the same drugs I’d had, would it have made a difference? I knew I would miss her dreadfully. I also knew that her last request to me would have to be fulfilled.
It has.
I willingly spoke at her funeral. I spoke about the importance of our short but special friendship, the bond we had and her love of brightly
“The immediate void was huge. Sue was the first person I had known to die of breast cancer.
How could it happen?
I felt guilty. ”
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