Jane & Don
In Jane's words:
"Don always wanted to die at home, in quiet, familiar surroundings. He could not bear the thought of being in hospital, with constant noise, surrounded by strangers and lacking dignity.
"Over time, we watched his world grow smaller. He tried his best to carry on with daily tasks, but the pain was severe. There were many little losses along the way, what I think of now as 'little deaths.' Things he had once loved gradually became impossible. His mind had always been sharp, incisive, and questioning. Watching his deterioration was heartbreaking.
"A year before he died, Don asked me how I would feel if he went to Switzerland to end his life. We had a long and honest conversation and realised it was not death that frightened him, it was the loss of control, the possibility of being forced into a hospital setting, and the fear that his wishes would not be respected.
"As we talked through the practicalities with the hospice team and looked realistically at what the future might hold, I saw a sense of relief come over him. He began to understand what could be done to support him and what choices remained available. Above all, he knew that there was nothing we could not face together. I promised him that I would stay with him, nurse him, and care for him until the end.
"One of the most important moments for Don was meeting with paramedic Mickey to complete his Advance Care Planning documentation. That conversation allowed him to sit down and express his deepest wishes for the end of his life. More importantly, he felt truly heard.
"It was invaluable to Don that experienced professionals were supporting us whilst he was in the comfort of home. We never felt alone; hospice care was always there in the background.
"I cannot count the number of times I called the Hospice Community Team for advice and support. Every week, I would note down any changes, questions or details from appointments and send them by email. The team would then explain what was likely happening and what we could expect next.
"Don found great relief in enjoying life's simple pleasures, from staying up to watch the Australian Grand Prix to spending Christmas dinner at our son’s house, surrounded by people he loved. These everyday moments may have seemed small, but to Don they represented the precious parts of life he cherished that illness threatened to take away.
"On 1 January 2025, his pain became so terrible he asked for a hospital bed to be delivered, which arrived very quickly. We live in a little two-up, two-down house, so the bed went into the dining room. It was lovely because he could be part of the home. He could see the television, look out of the window, watch the neighbours and have visitors pop in. He was not upstairs alone.
"There is no way I could have cared for Don the way I did, without the hospice. To be able to pick up the phone and receive help while sitting in the same room as the man I loved, a man who was so very sick, meant more than I can express.
"Thanks to the hospice, Don was able to stay in the place he loved. He died on 10 October 2025, just after midnight. At home, warm and cosy, where he had wanted to be, and I was right there with him, just as I had wanted to be."
