I am Sitting in the front room looking at the cordless phone, Wondering how the person that just phoned got our ex directory number.
I could understand local interest, But national interest baffled me. I think I better start a the beginning.
I woke up to hear shell telling someone to go away, in less polite terms then closed front door, I find out a few minutes later It was a lad I know from the local weekly newspaper, The Advertiser. Who popped around to find out if I knew anything about the rumour of a death of a college student.
Later on in the day, I given him a ring. And arranged a time for him to pop round for a chat. Between that call and him arriving later in the day, Pat had three calls and we had one from newspapers, asking for interview.
We had decided that only, the Advertiser and Shropshire Star would get anything out of us. As they are local papers. David Lawson of the Advertiser turns up as arranged on the phone. We all sit down in the front room to chat.
David is same age as me, we were in the same year at school. But he was more sporty than me, and was not one of the geeky weirdos that I was. And some say I still am.
Talking about the tilt I would like on the article, That was the message of Give Blood. And why I wanted it to be in the article. Kim had had so many blood products in hospital to try and save her, None of this would have been possible without ordinary people doing some thing as simple but amazing as giving blood. Most of what was said is already here on the blog so I wont bore you with it.
Shell says “You feel so helpless and just wish it was happening to you instead” I was pondering this, and the parents need to protect they children. When Shell starts chatting about Kim hiding how tough the treatment was and rarely showing it, and how she chatted to others starting out on treatment on the ward. I thought of jumping in and saying, I think the rare time she showed how hard it is was when I arrived.
You see Kim thinks about other people feelings, and try to protect them. She knew with me she could let the guard down, after all I was the straight talking First aider?
After we finished chatting, We say goodbye to the 6ft 3 reporter left.
Then the phone ring, Its a woman magazine, wanting to buy Kims story. Over the next couple of weeks, Phone calls, letters, all wanting one thing The exclusive rights to Our, Kims story.
To think about making money at a time like this for the story would be loathsome, crude and would Sully Kim memory. But that did not stop them from ringing time and time again.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
The Longest, hardest day - Part 1
Its the 24 Feb, the day Kim get the bone marrow infusion, as I lean on the work vehicle in Wem waiting for the time to leave. I ponder this thought, The national blood service* had started processing Mandy bone marrow over night. And I wonder how well this infusion will work on kim.
The engine stops as my phone rings. Its a nurse from the QEH telling me Kim is not well, That I should be ready to head over to Birmingham. This does not sound good, I need to think about what to do. I decided to think as I have breakfast, Just in case I end up on a mad dash to the QEH, as it could be my only meal of the day and me flaking out would not help anyone.
I sat at a table that would not look out of place in a fast food joint, including the ketchup splatter that missed the last users plate. I look out thought the double fire exit doors, at the students laughing and joking seeming not to have a care in the world. As I sat here like a fish in the fish tank of desperation. My thoughts on the different between the life of These students and that of Kim are interrupted by my phone ringing.
It was the hospital, Kim has been moved to Intermediate Care Unit. They said I should start heading over. Quickly I talked to my colleagues and the boss, telling them what happening. And ended up with the keys to a vehicle to get there.
I pull up outside home, to pick up the Sat Nav and a couple of passengers. I set up the Sat Nav, wrote a parking note, using the key words the nurse told me**. As a friend Izzy turns up with Mandy's Iron tables. I was not overly happy with Mandy coming as she was feeling the affects of the procedure she had yesterday, But if Kim was very bad. I could not stop her.
We are making good time as we reach Telford, I feel something shift in my back. As my need to pee grows, I guess it was mirco stone in my Kidney. It was no good I would have to pull over into the services. I get out at the services to umm, get rid of my waste water. Leaving Tom, Stu, Mandy and her mate Trudy in the vehicle for a short time, then it on the road again to complete the 68 miles dash to Kim side.
I pull up in the one of the spaces the nurse told me to use, stuck the note in the window and hid the Sat Nav. As I walk away from the vehicle my phone rang.
It is Shell, crying.
*www.blood.co.uk
** They have a way of stopping you being booked, and I am not telling.
The engine stops as my phone rings. Its a nurse from the QEH telling me Kim is not well, That I should be ready to head over to Birmingham. This does not sound good, I need to think about what to do. I decided to think as I have breakfast, Just in case I end up on a mad dash to the QEH, as it could be my only meal of the day and me flaking out would not help anyone.
I sat at a table that would not look out of place in a fast food joint, including the ketchup splatter that missed the last users plate. I look out thought the double fire exit doors, at the students laughing and joking seeming not to have a care in the world. As I sat here like a fish in the fish tank of desperation. My thoughts on the different between the life of These students and that of Kim are interrupted by my phone ringing.
It was the hospital, Kim has been moved to Intermediate Care Unit. They said I should start heading over. Quickly I talked to my colleagues and the boss, telling them what happening. And ended up with the keys to a vehicle to get there.
I pull up outside home, to pick up the Sat Nav and a couple of passengers. I set up the Sat Nav, wrote a parking note, using the key words the nurse told me**. As a friend Izzy turns up with Mandy's Iron tables. I was not overly happy with Mandy coming as she was feeling the affects of the procedure she had yesterday, But if Kim was very bad. I could not stop her.
We are making good time as we reach Telford, I feel something shift in my back. As my need to pee grows, I guess it was mirco stone in my Kidney. It was no good I would have to pull over into the services. I get out at the services to umm, get rid of my waste water. Leaving Tom, Stu, Mandy and her mate Trudy in the vehicle for a short time, then it on the road again to complete the 68 miles dash to Kim side.
I pull up in the one of the spaces the nurse told me to use, stuck the note in the window and hid the Sat Nav. As I walk away from the vehicle my phone rang.
It is Shell, crying.
*www.blood.co.uk
** They have a way of stopping you being booked, and I am not telling.
Dear Reader
This posting is outside the time line, and posting day of the blog.
This is cause the 24th of February is milestone day every year, for me, for us, Kim family. Why you may ask, well that would need at least two postings to answer. and they coming on the Friday 25th February and Friday 4th March.
Until then dear reader, take care.
This is cause the 24th of February is milestone day every year, for me, for us, Kim family. Why you may ask, well that would need at least two postings to answer. and they coming on the Friday 25th February and Friday 4th March.
Until then dear reader, take care.
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