Helping my Dad thank Hospice.
Ponsonby, Auckland
In January of this year, I lost my dad to terminal brain cancer.
I sat and watched my dad battle through surgery, chemotherapy and radiation when he should have been swimming, watching sport, socialising and enjoying his 50s.
It’s a tough one to decide who, what, when and how to fundraise for when it’s about someone and an experience you wish were just a bad dream.
Cancer research won’t bring my dad back, or even have helped him during his fight. His cancer was too aggressive, and his condition was too far gone. His diagnosis was terminal, and I lost him in three devastatingly quick months.
With all that being said, it was the hospice staff who were his true saviours. They cared for him with the kind of love only a family can bring someone in their final days. As an ex-palliative nurse, handing the reins to a complete stranger so I could be a daughter, not a nurse, to my dad was no easy task. But somehow, they made it feel safe for me to do so.
I am running in the Queenstown Marathon to do something hard and do it without complaint. If I’m lucky enough to keep living and be able to do hard things without complaint—which will never compare to the hardship of my dad’s experiences—then I want to make sure something good comes from it all.
Any and all donations will go towards hospice staff and operations. They are quite literally the only positive thing to come out of a terminal diagnosis.
Thank you for any and all love & support.
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