1st March

Its the 1st of march. I am on semi auto pilot, looking at a headstone catalogue. Half way though I realise what the date is, St David day, my 30th birthday. And here I am choosing a headstone, not the way I imagined I would be doing for my 30th.

This got me thinking about how the last 3 days have not been normal. And one came straight to mind. I had been to visit Doctor L to tell him Kim has passed away. It seemed fitting as he come to visit us on the cold and damp night in November to tell us the news.

Doctor L is sitting in chair as we talk, I fill him in with the bits a medical report just does not cover, about how shell is or is not coping. My thoughts on what help we need, that we could do with counselling. As we talk about Kim his caring side, the side that made him swear the Hippocratic oath shows. It must be hard to sit there and staying professional, as you talk about a person you known since birth and her death. You got to hand it to them.

I had been to see the vicar. To see if we could play pre recorded music for the funeral. We could so now we needed to find them. Then to the undertakers for the order of service. We had worked out what hymns to use with the help of my Mum.

We had the back page done. The top had a poem, and the bottom was the thanks and where donations were going.

I found the poem on a free online poem site it did not have a writers name. Shame really. I will finish this posting with the poem.

Time has taken me from you

Although not very far

I'll be watching though the sunshine

And though the brightest star.

I'll be watching all of you

From the heavens above

So take good care of each other

And carry all my love.

If you're ever wondering

If I'm there, here's where you can start

Take a look inside yourself

Deep within your heart.

I'll always be your baby

Your child, your best friend

So anytime you need me

Close your eyes I'm back again.

The undertakers

I love the second or two of just after you wake before the memory kicks in. Then I remember the events of yesterday. I just feel like pulling the duvet over my head and let the world get on with it. Finally I get up, I don't want to I just want to leave my numb body in bed and weep into my pillow. But I can't do that as there are thing to do.

I head downstairs and slump in a chair, thinking of what had to be done today. A cup of coffee and toast appear thanks to shell, who by the looks of it is trying to get though it by keeping busy. I did not want to eat but I did anyway, it was after all breakfast time.

We have to go to the funeral directors, they need a slip of paper we have to return Kim to Oswestry. Shell does not want to go so, it is me and Shell's mum Pat that heads off to the funeral directors, to get the wheel in motion.

The Funeral directors, David Davies & Sons is a bit, umm, unique. The uniqueness and eccentricity of this company is evident in there car park. As you pull in it like the undertakers car park but the left side of it has everything you expect at a window fitters.

You may think its weird having a undertaker doing window fitting, But I don't even think about it as I concentrate on the matter in hand. Getting though the day and getting the tasks I need to do done.

We are greeted by a lovely man, with window sealant on his work issue sweatshirt. Who show us into the meeting room and says someone will be with us shorty. Gillian arrives and with all the care you expect of a family run funeral directors talked and help though the first parts of organizing a burial.

We get to the point where she asks what coffin we would like. My dark humour kicked in as defence, I am able to hold in the comment of 'can we have a glass one'. As we looked though the catalogue, I wondered if anyone has asked for or joked about a glass one before.

With the wheels in motion for the funeral, with the lovely caring undertaker, we head home, Pat is worse for wear, so am I but the hard defensive coating stop it showing.

As I walk though the house, to do the next task, I miss the unopened letter on the side, a letter that explains a lot about how my daughter Steph is taking what is happening.

After a long day of doing stuff I did not have the get up and go to do. I sat down at the computer and on to facebook seeing the status I posted last night, referring to my one when Kim went back after Christmas. 'Dave and Shell have fallen off the treadmill with a big crash. Kim passed away on the 24th of February' . I go to Kim facebook page and look at all the comments, My eyes filling with tears, then I see a friend has started a group called ' in loving memory of Kimberley Jones'

That was the point where I had to give up on the Computer, I could not see it though the tears.

The Longest, hardest day - Part 3

I cant remember how I have ended up standing outside the isolation ward all by myself, but I have. I am on auto pilot, as I am shown into a side office, the same one that sat in about 10 days before being told the odds of her surviving. As I walked into the room the memories are there but bogged down in the numbness.

Kim Consultant's start talking, to this day I can not remember what she said. All I can remember is shaking the consultants hand and being presented with all the worldly goods that Kim had with her in the hospital. Her life for the last few months packed into a handful of bags.

Now it admin time, I get the Medical Cert of cause of death from a bereavement care office, load everything into the vehicle, set the Sat Nav to the Registry office. On the way out from the hospital stands the Building where Kim last hope was processed, National Blood Service lab.

I pulled up outside the registry office and look round at the sad faces, with red eyes and tear lines running down them. The kids did not want to come so Tom stayed with them, to look after them. As I walked to towards the Build I reached total emotional shutdown. Not the best time to update my direct boss, on what happening.

I send a impersonal text just saying 'kim has died', I was not thinking, and did not think about him receiving that o so blunt text. The Battle harden First Aider in me, was running the show, If it was not, I would still be back at the hospital crying on to Tom T shirt.

Processing the death was a cold and logical process. As I walked out I Looked down at the certificate of death, and a part of my soul ached with the finality of it all. Well in Birmingham at least.

We arrive back at home. Shell is crying, she has not stop since she got the news about Kim. Steph is doing what she normally does as it has not sunk in. God I wish I had the fortune of innocence to protect me from this horrible day. We off load the kit and I head back to work to drop the vehicle off.

I walk though the doors to see Barry standing at reception. As I get closer, he utters a line he had thought greatly about “bad day then” this would be the last greeting I would have for a while that would not have the words sorry or condolences in the first line.

As I walk into the cool evening air, I lean against a support pillar. Take a deep breath and try to muster the last dregs of energy in my body to stop myself falling apart where I stood.

Today had really taken it out of me.

The Longest, hardest day - Part 2

With the Phone call from Shell going around and around inside my head. We find the ICU and are shown into a room, where a Nurse arrives with a doctor to tell us the news face to face.

KIM IS DEAD.

They gave us the technical terms for why she died, only me and Tom could understand what they meant and Tom summed it up nicely, “The infection she had was too much for her”

We were asked if we wanted to see her as they got the paperwork sorted. We decided to go in two groups, Me and Tom, then Mandy, Trudy and Stu.

Tom and myself head down to see her first. The ward is painted in what I can only describe as window XP task bar blue. As we are shown into the bay, We see the bed with clean uncreased white sheets, above the head of the bed was a wall of white and red sockets, and monitoring equipment.

Lying in the bed, sheets neatly running across her shoulders was Kim, bandanna taking pride of place on her head. As it always has since her hair loss. She looked so peaceful, like she was just asleep. That is when I turned to Tom and lost the hard coating I had been using to do what needed to be done.

It must have been a strange sight, me standing there head rested on the chest of Tom, a 6ft 2in bloke with a rugby players build crying and blubbering my heart out. A heart that at that moment had a part of it ripped away. I look across at the 17 year old I loved and cared for so very much, A child I cared for like my own, a child I comforted when she fell over or was ill. A child that would not see the life that had lay out in front of her.

I started to pull myself together numb all over, just wanting to find a place to hid, to curl up and block out the world, to cry and hold my broken heart. I wanted the world to stop, so I could get off and mourn Kim. But alas life goes on around the stillness of this moment.

Sitting in the room waiting for Mandy, Stu and Trudy to return and the doctor to arrive, I feel nothing, just numbness. Everyone files into the room, the Doctor, 2 junior doctors, and 2 nurses. The Doctor talks, I just sit there. Unthinking, until the bone marrow comes up.

My mind was doing what it did back on that cold dark night that we were told about Kim's illness. The Practical, Professional part of my mind took over. “Can it be opened up to be used anyone needing it, or used in research?” over half the room were taken aback by this, & a junior Doctor shuffles out of the room. “we need to look into that” replies the doctor. Then carries on with the rest of the needs to be done stuff. Until being call out to the junior doctor, with some notes.

They came back in, saying that it can not be used by anyone else as it was harvested for Kim, but as we agreed for any spare to be used for research, then it will all be used by research labs. At least Mandy's selfless painful act would not be in vain after all.