Tag Archive for: end of life care

,

BLOG: Hospices across borders – Centre of excellence where the doors are wide open

Jackie Butler continues her report from the Institute of Palliative Medicine in Kerala, southern India. Today she’s shadowing the outpatient and inpatient clinical teams.

Six days a week, on the dot of 8.30am, staff throw open the doors of the outpatient clinic at IPM and check who is waiting outside. Like our UK A&E departments, people are generally seen on a walk-in, first come, first served basis, although an emergency will, of course, be bumped to the front of the queue.

This is the institute’s all-important hub for triaging, registering a patient and determining their needs, something like the St Luke’s hospital team assessing and caring for patients at Derriford.

While most people will have a terminal diagnosis, the criteria to be eligible for care are blurrier in Kerala than in the UK. Physical or mental deterioration stemming from old age rather than illness, for example, is considered a valid reason to be seen. Individuals can refer themselves or bring in a family member they are concerned about, although many arrive on recommendation from the Medical College’s nearby oncology centre.

A sports hall style temporary building in the grounds of the institute, the clinic’s modest design belies its vital role. There’s just one big open space, crudely sectioned off with a reception desk, shelf units and filing cabinets, a handful of beds, a few screens, chairs and a central table where doctors, nurses and interns study patient notes and discuss options.

One corner houses Leena’s dispensing pharmacy, with the nerve centre for the home care teams tucked in behind. It’s a temporary solution that would, no doubt, be frowned upon in Britain but, in a place where so much of life is lived in the open, personal privacy isn’t such a huge issue, especially when people’s wellbeing is at stake. There are long-term plans for a purpose-built clinic but for now they make do.

If it’s a patient’s first visit then there’s lots of paperwork to fill in as the doctors and nurses build up a comprehensive picture of their life and personal circumstances, not simply a record of their symptoms, diagnosis, or medications. Once registered, the patient keeps their own logbook to chart their IPM journey so all information is available one place. Digital notes are still some way off here.

A dedicated team of six to eight doctors and 15 nurses is shared with the institute’s inpatient unit, creating a welcome continuity. On duty when I visited was Shyni, a staff nurse so passionate about providing the very best palliative care for patients that she’d recently undergone two weeks intensive training at the esteemed St Christopher’s Hospice in London.

“The atmosphere is very different in palliative care and nurses have a specific and important role. We are attached to the patient and their relatives, and you get to know them very well,” she said. “This work also gives me great scope to improve myself and it has certainly helped my confidence levels.”

In common with St Luke’s doctors, nurses, health care assistants and social support teams, clinicians at IPM take a holistic view of each patient.

“What we always look for is the thing that is most distressing them. How do they feel about their disease and their prognosis? Is their priority something physical, mental, spiritual or social? We are guided by that to address their most important issue first, because that will make the biggest difference to them,” said Shyni.

“If they are desperate to reduce breathlessness, then we will look at that. If they are in serious mental distress, we can arrange for them to see the psychiatrist who is in the clinic one day a week.”

One of her encounters soon illustrated that ethos perfectly. Lying on one of the beds was a 74-year-old widower with late-stage cancer who appeared to be in a lot of pain, accompanied by his worried son. Shyni sat on the bed and, speaking gently in Malayalam, she managed to put them both at ease, even coaxing brief smiles. After checking his records, she swiftly set up a morphine drip to ease his physical discomfort, knowing there was more to uncover.

The man was distressed, and it wasn’t about the pain. Shyni perched on the bed again, with her hand resting gently on his knee. That’s when he blurted out that he didn’t want to leave his own home, but his daughter-in-law was insisting he should move in with her and his son to be cared for.

“He is struggling emotionally and what he wishes is important. If he wants to stay at home, then we can arrange that. We can put him on an end-of-life plan and provide homecare with 24-hour cover, as well as educate his relatives to help care for him when they can,” explained Shyni, rushing off to confirm with one of the doctors and make the necessary arrangements.

Despite the crowded space, the lack of privacy, the rising heat and the important decisions being made, the pervading atmosphere was one of calm, diligence, and patience that would continue through to 4.30pm when the queue outside was gone, but only until the next morning.

Some of the patients seen during the session I witnessed here were admitted to the institute’s inpatient unit, my next stop.

In the corridor of the Institute’s inpatient unit, a three-year-old girl ran round and round in circles, laughing as she played chase with her elder brother, oblivious to the significant family event unfolding nearby. Yards away on one of the wards, her anxious parents sat by grandfather Babu’s bedside, counting his big rasping breaths. A cluster of close relatives sat on a ledge outside the room, chatting in hushed tones, sipping drinks, sharing snacks, and keeping a watchful eye on the children.

Large groups gathering to say goodbye is nothing unusual in this place where the end of life is an everyday occurrence. For Dr Ashna, it was a top priority on her rounds to reassure the family that they were witnessing the natural process of dying and that Babu was not in any pain or discomfort. By evening he would be gone.

“It’s distressing for the family and the staff more than the patient,” Ashna explained later. “He will not be so aware of the impression he is giving.”

There are 30 beds in the unit, grouped in wards of three cubicles each with a patient bed, a put-you-up for visitors and a cabinet for belongings, but they are rarely more than half occupied to keep things manageable. Like St Luke’s at Turnchapel, the unit is generally reserved for the most complex of cases, patients needing special pain or symptom management or those who have no family to support them at home at the end of life. The unit also provides regular respite care for those living with life limiting illnesses and injuries.

Turnover can be rapid. When Ashna came on duty at 9am after a few days away, almost every one of the 12 inpatients was unknown to her. Care coordinator Meena, a calm and reassuring presence, updated her on all the new arrivals, mostly referred from the onsite outpatient clinic or the nearby Medical College Hospital, and they talked in detail through each person’s clinical notes together.

As the two women set out to visit patients, a trail of six student doctors and visiting clinicians tagged along, ready to look and learn, confirming the institute’s commitment to sharing knowledge and expertise through specialist education.

Among them, Dr Dum Kumari from Green Pastures NGO Hospital in Nepal in the Himalayas was there with a colleague for ten days as a hands-on element of IPM’s specialist National Fellowship course for clinicians.

“I’m very interested in palliative care, but the concept is so new in Nepal and there’s huge potential for development,” she said. “We have an Australian palliative specialist at the hospital who has encouraged us to take the course, and it’s been excellent.”

We trailed from bed to bed, patient to patient – several in the late stages of cancer – witnessing Ashna’s purposeful and thoughtful engagement and Meena’s motherly understanding, making sure everything was being done for each person to be as content and comfortable as possible, and answering their loved ones’ questions.

As the round drew to a close, a young woman arrived with a baby on her hip to take her husband back to Assam in the north of India. The 37-year-old labourer had been working on a construction site in Kozhikode, sending all his earnings back to his family, when he became very sick and was given a terminal diagnosis. His wife had left their three other children with relatives to accompany him on his final journey home.

I checked to see who else had a tear in their eye and it was universal. Death may be normal here, but people’s stories pull on the heartstrings of the most seasoned professionals, just as they do at St Luke’s.

As a charity we know well that making this kind of care available, free of charge for all, relies on the loyal support and goodwill of an army of fundraisers and volunteers. We’ll meet some of IPM’s recruits and discover how education is a top priority in the final part of this series, which you can read here.

/by
,

BLOG: Hospices across borders – Compassionate care comes to the doorstep

Jackie Butler continues her report from the Institute of Palliative Medicine in Kerala, southern India, 5,000 miles from St Luke’s. Today she joins a home care team visiting patients and families in the community.

Every year 2,000 new patients register with the Institute of Palliative Medicine in Kozhikode which serves the city and a surrounding area of 10km and a population of around 600,000. Nurses, doctors, and ancillary staff make around 20,000 patient contacts annually via the outpatient clinic, the inpatient unit and home visits.

Echoing the work of medics and volunteers in more than 100 local Pain and Palliative Care Society branches across a patchwork of rural villages, or panchayats, in the wider district, as well as hundreds more across the state of Kerala, the pioneering IPM is also a globally recognised centre of excellence, empathy, and education.

I was invited to follow some of the charitable organisation’s clinicians on their day-to-day visits and consultations. Beyond shared values and aims, it’s people who make an institution, and the professionalism and kindness I witnessed in Kerala reminded me straight away of St Luke’s own wonderful teams.

Staff here wear no uniforms or name badges, so it was initially impossible to tell the nurses from volunteers, the doctors from visitors, but all became clear once I’d been introduced. Language was tricky at times too, although compassion and respect go beyond words. Most staff here understand and speak at least some English, but day to day communication happens in Malayalam, the official language of Kerala. While I can understand simple words like hello (Namaskaram) and thank you (Nanni), the fluent flow of one of India’s most complex and hard to master tongues is way beyond me, so I was grateful for the doctors’ and nurses’ willingness to interpret and explain.

In the welcome cool of a shaded stone-built single-storey dwelling Dr Nayana stood by the bedside of an 80-year-old man. Suffering from renal problems, heart failure and diabetes, he sat silent and skeletal in a sleeveless vest and loincloth, the cracked, painful, and itchy skin on his feet and hands, arms and legs, all too obvious.

Nurse Sanjana handed the man’s wife a bottle of medicated oil and demonstrated how to gently massage it in for him – a small but significant way to make her husband a little more comfortable and ease her own concern.

Half an hour earlier we’d set off from IPM’s outpatient clinic in one of their two compact ambulance vehicles, generously sponsored by local community groups and steered by a dedicated driver with taxi-like knowledge of the area. There are usually two runs a day, backed up by an emergency service provided in association with three or four other palliative care providers in the wider district.

Masked up and ready for action, I was accompanying Sanjana and Nayana, who divides her professional time between palliative care here and her specialism in ENT at the hospital, on their morning home visits.

With a fat wadge of patient files wedged by the dashboard, we’d been bumping down narrow, windy roads fanning out from Kozhikode’s main roads, the equivalent of twisty single-track lanes in the depths of the South Hams, where grass grows in the middle of the road and rabbits play dare. Here, instead of high hedges and fields, they are lined on either side with trees, homes and paths that snake away into the undergrowth. At one point we were stalled for ten minutes by a baby calf that didn’t want to move; cows of all sizes are considered sacred by India’s Hindus.

It felt a little alarming to know that the vehicle was loaded with a plastic boxes full of controlled opioids and other commonly used drugs from Leena’s IPM pharmacy. Even though the containers were locked, I knew this scenario would never happen at home, but the priority is to give patients what they need quickly, reminiscent of the “just in case packs” often arranged for St Luke’s patients to avoid waiting for a prescription.

A nurse travelling solo would usually spend an hour or more with each patient, often once or twice daily depending on need, delivering medical and personal care, dealing with catheters, bed sores, bathing and sometimes armed with food parcels for families who are struggling. Volunteers visit separately to give psychosocial support to both patients and their families, often seeing people regularly over a period of months, like the befriending volunteers and professionals of St Luke’s Patient and Family Support Service.

But today’s were doctor-led medication and review visits – akin to duties usually undertaken by our Clinical Nurse Specialists – and time was limited. We started at 10am and by 1pm we had been to 10 patients’ homes and Nayana and Sanjana were scheduled to make another 10 visits in the afternoon.

The people we saw were approaching death for many reasons – stroke, dementia, cancer – and needed help with complex combinations of physical and mental health problems. Some had blood test results to consider, side effects of medications, both physical and psychological, to address.

Most homes here are detached and surrounded by their own land, even if small, many with just two rooms, kitchen and bathroom. Some places can only be reached on foot, and with few fences dividing territories, we traipsed through other families’ yards and gardens, negotiating menageries of dogs, cats and chickens.

Medications could generally be found lined up on the patient’s bedroom windowsill – brown paper packets of blister packs collected together in Tupperware boxes – and Sanjana’s first action was to check the patient’s blood pressure.
Nayana rested a comforting hand on the arm of a 77-year-old grandmother as she prescribed antibiotics for this family matriarch, sinking rapidly through broncho pneumonia, with added pain from swollen legs and skin lesions.

In a rundown house nearby, another elderly woman lay in bed confused, distressed and bruised after yet another fall, surrounded by photos of her son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren. Painkillers, kind smiles and reassurance were all Nayana and Sanjana could offer, acknowledging back in the ambulance that death was close.

After three hours every visit on the list was ticked off, except for one address where the only one home seemed to be a teeth-baring guard dog. We made a quick exit, and as we drove back to IPM I reflected on how comfortingly familiar my experiences with the clinical teams had been.

Barring differences in environment, heat and language – and the drugs in the back of the ambulance – the overriding feeling here, on the other side of the world, was of the same expert and human holistic support our teams deliver day in and day out at St Luke’s.

Click here to read the next instalment of Jackie’s time in India.

/by
,

BLOG: Hospices across borders – How India’s pioneers made a global model

St Luke’s Jackie Butler discovers intriguing differences and reassuring similarities visiting a hub for palliative care and compassionate communities, 5,000 miles from Plymouth.

Shuddering to a halt outside Kerala’s Institute of Palliative Medicine on a searingly hot and dusty afternoon, I couldn’t help wondering whether my rickshaw driver had taken a wrong turn and delivered me to the art college by mistake.

Around a porticoed entrance, reminiscent of grand residences from the days of the Raj, dozens of Mod-style scooters were double parked, jostling for a shady space. Amid a babble of excited chatter, laughter and blaring Indian pop tunes, a crowd of animated young people spilled out through the surrounding jungle-like gardens.

As first impressions go, it was both surprising and heart-warming to find a party atmosphere outside a palliative care centre. The scene underlined how life goes on side by side with death, in the same way that Indian culture traditionally keeps the sick and elderly in the heart of the family.

I’d left behind Kozhikode’s noisy city centre, its parades of colourful shops and stalls, beeping horns, and hair-raising near misses as an endless flock of people strolled the streets and darted across roads in 34C heat.

Easing into the sprawling, greener, suburban territory of the esteemed Medical College, my bright yellow tuk-tuk taxi trundled by a long row of modern multi-storey hospital units where a sea of patients, relatives and staff talked on mobiles, munched spicy snacks out of newspaper cones, rushed to appointments, ran for overflowing buses, or propped up bandaged friends. Some pushed wheelchairs or lifted poorly patients out of ambulances on stretchers – a series of dramatic snapshots, come and gone in a flash.

As we passed the huge maternity centre, a young man in smart checked shirt and crisp white loincloth strode proudly out of double exit doors, grinning from ear to ear. With one arm he gently steered his wife through the crowd to a waiting car; in the other he held a bundle of snow-white blankets with a tiny face poking out – a new life just begun.That image of a baby meeting the world for the first time stayed with me as the chauffeur of my three-wheeled chariot finally turned into a winding side road, bumped a few hundred yards down a leafy driveway, stopped outside what he declared was my destination, unloaded my suitcase and demanded 300 rupees (£3).

In a place where people come to find peace at the end of life, I hadn’t expected such a vibrant welcome. Dozens of youthful smiling faces surrounded me, one girl explaining that they were creating the structures and decorations for Curios, the centre’s major annual fundraising festival – actually only a fragment of what these incredible young volunteers contribute, but more of that later. Eager to create a good impression and point me in the direction of my kind host Ilyas Hameed, co-ordinator of the learning academy, they gave me an instant flavour of what a unique and special place IPM is.

I’ve been coming to Kerala for more than a decade, enchanted by the natural beauty of its sea and forest landscapes, its historic towns, and the humanity of its people. In terms of location, scenery, and atmosphere, this is India’s Devon and Cornwall. Literacy here is around 94 per cent – the best rate in the whole of India – basic health care is free, and social reform, regardless of religion or caste, has been a priority on the local government agenda for decades.

So, I wasn’t too surprised to discover that the state is also streets ahead in terms of end-of-life community care and that a forward-thinking centre of excellence, cited by the World Health Organisation as an aspirational model for the rest of India and beyond, was rooted in the city I’ve flown into on many occasions. Of all the palliative care in India, some 90 per cent happens in Kerala, which is home to just three per cent of the country’s population. The opportunity to visit the hub of it all while I was on a trip nearby felt too good to miss.

Like St Luke’s, it all started with enlightened doctors on a mission to ease the suffering of those with life-limiting illnesses, acknowledging that nobody should die alone or in pain and distress. Here it was the community model that came first. Dr Suresh Kumar, who had practised in the UK, and Dr Rajagopal established the charitable Pain and Palliative Care Society in Kerala in 1993, inspired by Dr Cicely Saunders and the British and US hospice movements.

They adapted their vision to the sprawling rural geography of the state and the available resources, recognising that caring for the dying was fundamentally a social issue with medical aspects. They agreed it was important – and more practical – for patients to stay close to their families, whenever possible. From a small outpatient clinic in at Kozhikode’s main hospital, the society developed the pioneering Kerala Model for compassionate communities, distinguished by its efficient network of hundreds of neighbourhood palliative care groups across the state.

Led by willing and well-trained volunteers, supported by local doctors and nurses, and financed by donations – mostly regular micro amounts given by individuals – they provide free care, medication, and psychosocial support for all, while empowering close relatives to help keep their dying family members comfortable at home.

The Institute of Palliative Medicine, opened in 2003, was the ambitious but obvious next stage – a 30-bed specialist inpatient unit, with outpatient clinic and home care teams serving the city and surrounds, combined with a pioneering, high level palliative care training centre for the whole of India and beyond, both overseen and managed by the charitable society.

I got another heartening surprise as I entered the building’s cool and tranquil stone-floored central corridor and was greeted by a plaque acknowledging that Cornwall’s WB Davis Charitable Trust funded the construction of the institute on land provided by the medical college. It felt like a special bond linking this part of the world to our doorstep, united by the same aims and an ongoing spirit of public generosity.

Philanthropist Bruce Davis was managing director of the Davis Derby family business that had shipped thousands of Humphry Davy flame safety lamps out to India over more than a century. At home in Cornwall his interest in pain relief and end of life care following the deaths of his mother and a close friend from cancer was instrumental in the foundation of St Julia’s Hospice in Hayle in 1982.

Inspired by a nurse who witnessed community palliative care on a visit to Kerala, Bruce and the trust decided to spread their wings and pursue key projects in India. IPM was the first of many similar endeavours in India that he supported in his lifetime. Bruce died in 2018 and every year the institute awards a prestigious Gold Medal prize in his name to a promising junior doctor in the field.

After checking in at reception, it was time for a bite to eat. In the very basic canteen, they serve the plainest of foods for easy digestion by patients – thin dahl, a few boiled vegetables, a poppadom, a mound of plain fat-grained rice, with a milky chai to wash it down…not quite what I had in mind with the Arabian Sea stuffed with tasty fish and seafood down the road!

The shared table filled up around me and I found myself chatting with students taking IPM’s course for carers that’s open to all. A trainee nurse had her sights set on a career in Europe and wanted to broaden her scope, a teenage mother was keen to learn to take the best care of her Down Syndrome baby whose additional health problems mean his lifespan is limited, and a middle-aged businessman was seeking a more “worthwhile path in life”.

Two young friends from the university’s BA History course who regularly volunteer at IPM settled down opposite me to practise their excellent English conversation, putting my five words of local Malayalam to shame.

Leena, the thoughtful resident pharmacist, watched me wrestling with my bland meal and asked what curry I like and if I can take it spicy. The next morning, she arrived with a little tiffin tin packed with the most delicious homemade prawn masala to liven up my breakfast.

Five thousand miles from home in this enclave of kindness, and feeling more than a little jetlagged, I strolled through humid fairy lit gardens to my guest accommodation and a welcome rest before a couple of days shadowing the IPM clinical teams.

Meet them in the next article which you can read here.

/by
,

BLOG: Pink parade makes memories and miles matter for hospice care

A vibrant parade of a thousand warm-hearted walkers strode through the city on Friday night (7 July), sharing cherished memories of much-missed friends and family members, and raising vital funds for St Luke’s Hospice Plymouth.

Midnight Walk entrants of all ages and abilities gathered at Plymouth Argyle’s Home Park stadium as twilight fell, ready to pound the pavements along the charity’s choice of three-mile, six-mile, and 13.1-mile routes.

On the backs of their official bright pink T-shirts, walkers had written the names of lost loved ones they would be thinking about during the evening, many of whom had received care from St Luke’s teams at the end of their lives.

Many jazzed up their outfits with glow in the dark make-up, colourful net skirts, flashing bunny ears, boas, garlands and headdresses, and a lively musical warm-up led by Plymouth based fitness class Cheezifit adding a fun festival atmosphere to the tender, uplifting annual event, sponsored this year by Michael Spiers and Marchand Petit.

All walkers marched up Outland Road on the first leg to Manadon roundabout, passing walkers’ poignant memories on this year’s new Reflection Mile. Some turned around here, retracing their steps to complete the shortest, most family-friendly route, while others continued up to Derriford before doubling back to complete the six-mile challenge.

With a circular route, equivalent to half marathon distance, added to the mix for the first time, this most demanding route saw the hardiest of Midnight Walkers continue via Eggbuckland to Marsh Mills, along the Embankment and through the city centre, before returning triumphant to Home Park.

For some it was a family affair with two or three generations journeying together. Alex Baggott from Plymouth was walking with daughters Hannah Baggott and Charlotte Bennett, in memory of her husband Ian. A former police officer with Devon and Cornwall Constabulary and super fit marathon runner, Ian developed a rare and incurable lung disease and sadly died in April this year.

His wife and daughters wanted to show their appreciation for the care he received from St Luke’s at home team by taking part in Midnight Walk. Before setting off on the 13.1-mile route, Alex and her girls were delighted to meet up with Debbie Hutchinson, the St Luke’s specialist nurse who was there for Ian and the family when they needed it most.

“It isn’t until you actually need St Luke’s and use their services, that you understand how vital and special they are. With Debbie’s help we were able to look after Ian at home after his last stay in hospital,” said Alex, a nurse herself.

“She really couldn’t do enough for us. It was the most awful time of our lives, but we didn’t have to concern ourselves with anything other than caring for Ian.”

Lynne Shell, whose husband Pip was cared for at St Luke’s specialist unit at Turnchapel, before his death last year, was walking three miles with daughters Nicola and Helen, and granddaughters, Rosie, five, and Molly, eight, and on Friday had already raised £400 in sponsorship.

It was little Molly who spurred the family to take part. “Children at school were talking about fundraising for other charities. She came home and asked how she could raise money for St Luke’s. It’s fantastic for the girls to be part of this. They have been so excited seeing the amount on our Just giving page go up.”

Accepting their medals at the end of the three-mile walk were St Luke’s clinical nurse specialist Alex Chapman, her six-year-old daughter, Olivia, and her mum Jen Gibson, who used to be a community staff nurse at Torpoint, with a special interest in palliative care.

Jen said: “There is hardly a local family that hasn’t been touched by St Luke’s. It is such a fabulous resource for the area. Many times I have referred patients for advice. My special reason for taking part is that six weeks ago I discovered I had a leaky heart valve and couldn’t even walk 25 yards, but I’ve done all right tonight!”

Alex, who joined the hospice 18 months ago, and walked with colleagues last year, added: “It’s Mum’s most proud appointment for me, working for St Luke’s.”

Meanwhile, Olivia was enjoying her late night out, fuelled by popcorn and chocolate treats, and looking forward to telling her classmates at Cornwood School all about her Midnight Walk adventure with Mum and Nanna.

Chrome Alexander and his wife, Dee, Navy personnel from HMS Drake and HMS Raleigh, were remembering his father, Montgomery, who died from cancer 18 months ago at home on the Caribbean island of St Vincent, where palliative care is limited.

“We have a friend who works as a nurse for St Luke’s so we know it is a fantastic organisation and that’s why we decided to sign up for Midnight Walk. It is not just the people who are ill who are looked after, but their families too,” said Dee.

Chrome added: “I would have liked my dad to have had that support because it takes a lot of pressure off the family, but there was nothing like that available there.”

Emma Harrison walked 13.1 miles as one of a team from R T Fitness, a closeknit group of women inspired to support the important services St Luke’s provides. She was paying tribute to her late mum who was cared for at home by St Luke’s before her death from cancer aged just 58.

“When you are going through that with a family member you don’t know where to turn. You really need someone there who can understand and not judge. St Luke’s gave me comfort and I knew that in her last hours she was not suffering.

“She had worked for the NHS for the majority of her life and she didn’t want to die in hospital. She wanted to be at home in the house she was born in, with her family and friends.”

Head of Fundraising at St Luke’s, Penny Hannah, said: “It was incredibly humbling and heart-warming to see so many walkers out there on the streets of Plymouth, remembering their loved ones and feeling proud to be part of such a magical and bonding evening.

“I would like to thank every single walker for their compassion and kindness. We are also hugely grateful to our wonderful sponsors Michael Spiers and Marchand Petit, and to Plymouth Argyle as hosts of our event village. We couldn’t run Midnight Walk without their support.

“The money and awareness raised is so important for the future of St Luke’s as we continue to offer our specialist care and support, free of charge, to those who need us most, at home, in Derriford and in our specialist unit at Turnchapel. Thank you again to everyone involved.”

/by
,

BLOG: How experience of St Luke’s care inspired Midnight Walk co-sponsor

When Gordon Maunder’s mother, Christine, was approaching the end of her life, St Luke’s was there by the family’s side, enabling her to spend her last days, comfortably and without pain, in her own home.

This memorable first-hand experience of St Luke’s services inspired Gordon, company chairman of Marchand Petit estate agents, to make the business proud co-sponsors of this year’s Midnight Walk.

Gordon describes his mother as “small, dark and dangerous”, and a lover of playing bridge and gardening. She had been receiving treatment for ovarian cancer before learning that her illness was terminal. A dear grandmother and great grandmother, she died in February 2022 aged 88.

“She was only 5ft but no pushover! The one thing she didn’t want was to go into hospital to die,” said Gordon. “It was massively important to Mum to be in her own home at Wembury that she absolutely loved.

“She knew she had reached that point of no return… it was one of those terrible moments. My sisters and I were absolutely at our wit’s end, not knowing what to do and how to help Mum. When the ladies from St Luke’s came through the door it was like the Ghostbusters had arrived.

“They took control and everything they did was efficient and carried out with compassion. Mum was immediately made to feel comfortable. She was a mad keen gardener, and the dining room was made into a bedroom for her so she could see her garden out of the window.

“For all our sakes we were immensely grateful. We knew which stage of the journey we were at, and we felt less stressed by the fact that she was out of pain and less stressed herself. We took it in turns to constantly be with her, and my father, Graham, who now lives with us.

“St Luke’s provides a fabulous service. It doesn’t matter who you are or where you are, they are there for you.”

Gordon will be at the Midnight Walk start line at Plymouth Argyle’s Home Park this Friday night to cheer on his wife, Penny, 14-year-old daughter, Hettie, and a team of Marchand Petit colleagues, including Sarah Baines, Sarah Douglas and Helen Harris, as they set off on the six-mile route.

Helen will be striding the streets in memory of her Dad, who received care from St Luke’s at home before his death eight years ago.

“Dad had a brain tumour and St Luke’s was wonderful for our family at the time and helped him remain at home,” said Helen, Associate Director of Marchand Petit’s Modbury office. “I’m walking to support the hospice and to raise awareness to help others. I don’t think you really understand what St Luke’s does, and that it’s not just an inpatient unit, until it touches you personally.

“It’s a charity that is close to my heart and it’s nice to get involved in something like this and raise money for such a great cause. St Luke’s is a huge resource for people in their time of need, when they don’t really know what’s available. They were invaluable for us, and very supportive for friends who have also lost their parents.”

/by
,

BLOG: Ella’s Midnight miles for Grandma Doffy

A little girl has set her sights on fundraising in memory of her Great Grandma, so that other families can have the same support she did during such a difficult time.

Ella Honey Casey, 6, from Leigham, will be walking the three-mile route at our Midnight Walk on Friday in memory of her Great Grandma, Dorothy Honeychurch – or as she knew her – Grandma Doffy, who died earlier this year.

Ella Honey’s mum Emily, said: “After being diagnosed with terminal cancer in March this year, Doffy took the brave decision to be looked after by St Luke’s in April. Doffy was there for two weeks over Easter and the staff couldn’t do enough for myself, Ella and my youngest daughter Daisy. Doffy was treated with so much dignity and respect and we were given so much support and comfort from everyone, from the volunteers and support workers to the nursing staff. It is hard to put into words how kind and compassionate St Luke’s were in our time of need.

“Whilst we were at Turnchapel we talked to the nurses about the Midnight Walk. Ella was so excited that she could help other families to have the same amazing care we had at such a challenging time.”

Ella Honey will be walking alongside her mum and Nana (Clare Honeychurch) on the night, bringing together three generations in memory of a fourth.

The determined six-year-old has been hard at work fundraising and has already surpassed her £100 fundraising goal on JustGiving.

Emily added: “She is very excited and has been asking friends and family who knew and loved Doffy to help with fundraising. In preparation for the walk, she has been doing lots of extra long walks around Wembury and Saltram ready for her big adventure!”

Like Ella Honey, many of our Midnight Walkers are walking in memory of those special people who are no longer with us, while striding forward to secure the future of our hospice services at home, in hospital and in our specialist unit.

Registration closes for our Midnight Walk, sponsored by Michael Spiers and Marchand Petit, on Tuesday at 5pm, so it’s your last chance to sign up. Already signed up? If like Ella Honey, you can raise at least £100 in sponsorship we can achieve collectively our goal of delivering enough for our St Luke’s hospice teams to care for 100 families at home. Wouldn’t that be amazing?

Sign up and set up your JustGiving page here.

/by
,

BLOG: St Luke’s makes historic return to Kingsbridge

The doors have opened on St Luke’s latest shop, marking a fresh and exciting era for the charity’s presence in Kingsbridge and a community minded new identity for one of the South Hams town’s landmark buildings.

The ground floor of a distinctive Grade II listed former inn at the bottom of Fore Street has been sensitively refurbished to create an attractive and spacious store. Open seven days a week, 9.30am to 5pm Monday to Saturday and 10am to 4pm on Sundays, the new shop is selling pre-loved clothing for women, men and children, shoes and accessories, jewellery, books and bric-a-brac, as well as smaller items of brand new flat-packed furniture, such as tables, chairs and TV stands.

St Luke’s previously ran a popular, but much smaller, outlet at the top of the town for more than 25 years but, sadly, it closed during the Covid pandemic. The new store at the bottom of Fore Street is not only much larger, it has also helped to inject fresh life into a building with a fascinating past and some lovely architectural features.

Research by St Luke’s volunteer and fundraiser Colin Pincombe has revealed that the site started life in the mid-18th century as the Blue Anchor Inn and brewhouse. The eight-bedroom hotel, which boasted a bar, butcher’s shop and stables, was popular with masters of vessels sailing between Kingsbridge, Plymouth and further afield from what was then known as Dodbrooke Quay. Builders carrying out the recent refurbishments discovered clay pipes consistent with those times.

The present three-storey stucco structure dates back to the 1860s, and its exterior was listed for preservation in 1972. The building was modernised and renamed the Quay Hotel by its new owners, Courage Brewery, in the early 1980s and it eventually closed in 2015. Now the building has had a sensitive makeover and houses St Luke’s on the ground floor, complete with original fireplace and 19th century brickwork, with residential accommodation above.

Shop manager Maureen Clarke and assistants Molly Brown, Sarah Hunt and Julie Stephens, who all live in Kingsbridge, are eager to welcome customers and receive quality donated items. Maureen is very experienced in the sector, having previously managed two other charity shops in the town, and she has great connections within the community, including the rugby club and the fantastic annual Ride for Tina event in aid of St Luke’s.

She and her team will be supported by a band of local volunteers and Maureen has already recruited a core of around seven, many of whom have worked with her in the past.

Over the past few months, other St Luke’s shops have been saving and storing items to stock the rails and shelves at Kingsbridge in its first couple of weeks.

“They have been amazing. A lot of the stock we have on display now is designer labels,” said Maureen. “If you have a good-looking shop and a good layout, then you attract good quality donations.”

In addition, she is thrilled that the people and businesses of Kingsbridge and surrounding areas are lining up to help.

“People are saying they are glad that St Luke’s is back in the town. They are happy that we have this building because they know it will provide much needed income for such a good cause. And I’m excited to educate people who don’t know exactly what St Luke’s does and how the money is spent on such important care.”

St Luke’s retail area manager Kerry Hearn said: “We are absolutely delighted to return to Kingsbridge and open a new St Luke’s shop in this wonderful historic space. The town has always supported us so generously in the past and we’re sure people will love the new premises.

“By donating your pre-loved items or shopping for bargains with us you will be supporting the crucial work of St Luke’s expert compassionate teams who are caring for people from the town and surrounding area, 365 days a year, at the most difficult and emotional of times.”

If you would like to get involved, either volunteering in the shop or assisting with fundraising in the local area please call into the shop or email volunteer@stlukes-hospice.org.uk

/by
,

BLOG: Holly Heroines – A beautiful light in everyone’s life

This year’s Midnight Walk will be a poignant one for so many. Especially for a group of women walking in memory of a special friend described as ‘a beautiful light in everyone’s life’.

Holly Hacker from Ivybridge, was diagnosed with cancer six years ago. Sadly, in January this year, at the age of 40, Holly passed away after bravely fighting for so long.

In Holly’s honour, a group of her friends decided to get a team together to take on our Midnight Walk on Friday 7 July to keep their memories of such a beautiful friend, daughter, sister and auntie alive.

Holly Heroines7 is made up of seven women including Holly’s two sisters-in-law and her close friends. The teammates are: Laura Hacker, Maggie Hacker, Tracey Keslake, Natalie Potter, Molly Joslin, Laura Reed and Kelly Thomson.

Holly’s close friend, Kelly Thomson has described the special memories they have of Holly. She said: “Holly was a kind soul, her smile could light up a room. Her brother Aaron has commented that the picture on our JustGiving page stops him in his tracks when he sees it on the news feed. That’s how I remember her…smiley.

“She was a good friend, sister, daughter. She would see her Mum every Saturday for a fry up and then go off shopping together. She had a good sense of adventure but drew the line if it involved water or heights. Although we did get her on a river cruise when visiting Scotland!

“She was very generous, caring and truly a great friend. She was always there if you needed her any time of day. She would stand her ground if needed and could be firm. She had a special look that you knew if she looked at you this way she wasn’t amused, something I saw quite often being the joker of the trio!

“She really was a beautiful light in everyone’s life.”

Having taken part in our flagship event previously Kelly and teammate Tracey jumped at the opportunity to take part. “Having done the Midnight Walk before, as soon as we knew it was happening I already knew we would be doing it. Although I was hoping Holly would still be with us to do it too.”

The walk itself, kindly sponsored this year by Michael Spiers and Marchand Petit includes three different routes of 3 miles, 6 miles, and 13.1 miles. The women, like so many others, see it as an opportunity share precious memories and make new ones.

“I think we are all looking forward to spending time with each other on the walk and sharing stories and memories”, said Kelly. “We haven’t seen each other since the funeral, so it will be good to catch up with them. The girls are all wonderful individuals, and they are all like old friends already.

“The Midnight Walk has such an amazing ambience as you know that people there are doing it in memory of someone. So the support you get from strangers is amazing. It means a lot to us to raise money for St Luke’s as they do such an amazing job. They supported Holly and made her comfortable in her last couple of weeks and they showed great compassion to her family and friends. It can’t be an easy job for them, but we are so grateful to them for caring for our beautiful friend.”

The inspiring team are currently at the top of our team’s fundraising leaderboard, having already raised a fantastic £1,195 for our patient care. If every single Midnight Walker commits to raising £100 like this fabulous seven, the event will bring in enough for our St Luke’s hospice teams to care for 100 families at home, just like Holly’s.

Kelly added: “We are so overwhelmed by everyone’s generosity so far, and I know Holly would too be so proud. She is so missed daily but her memory will go on.”

If the Holly Heroines have inspired you, then why not sign up your team today for our Midnight Walk and make Midnight miles matter. Click here to sign up.

/by
,

PR: In memory of Christina Quinn

Christina Quinn, chief executive of St Luke’s Hospice Plymouth, has been confirmed as one of three people who died in a dive boat fire in Egypt on Sunday.

A spokesperson for her family said: “It is with great sadness that we confirm the tragic death of Christina Quinn in Egypt.  She was a sister, daughter, wife, aunty, friend, and rock to many.  She will be missed beyond words.  We would ask for privacy at this time.”

Christina, 58, took up her role as CEO at St Luke’s in May this year following a long and impactful career with the NHS, most recently as Director of NHS South West Leadership Academy.

Charles Hackett, Chair of St Luke’s Trustees, said: “Christina was incredibly passionate about St Luke’s and its place at the heart of the community it serves, and we are devastated to lose her warmth, wisdom, and leadership.

“Before her recent appointment, Christina had served for six years in a voluntary capacity as chair of St Luke’s board, working closely with the senior management team and her fellow trustees and earning their respect, trust, and appreciation.

“With her vibrant and engaging personality and her down to earth, caring nature, as CEO she was quickly building strong and meaningful relationships both inside and outside the organisation.

“We will miss Christina enormously and our hearts go out to her family and close friends at this tragic time.”

/by
,

BLOG: Dying Matters Awareness Week 8 – 14 May 2023

Personal grief when you work in health and care

How we can become more compassionate around terminal illness, dying and grief in the workplace is the focus for this year’s national Dying Matters Awareness Week (8-14 May).

The devastating and often prolonged effect of losing a loved one will have been experienced by more than half of all employees during the past five years but offering the right support – in the place where many of us spend so much of our lives – is something many managers feel unconfident about, according to Hospice UK.

People often assume that those working in health and care are better equipped to cope with loss because they encounter it on a regular basis. In reality, whether you’re in a caring or support role at a hospice like St Luke’s, in a hospital or nursing home, or working as a funeral director, celebrant or spiritual leader, it doesn’t make it any easier to cope when terminal illness or bereavement comes calling in your personal life.

In fact, these extraordinary environments can present many situations that resonate deeply and make it harder for people to carry out aspects of their work, particularly in the early days of the grieving process.

Many of us will be very familiar with practical measures and advice for self-care that can be useful following bereavement, even regularly advising and supporting the loved ones and carers of people who die in our community. But, when we’re enveloped in the fog of our own heartache, it’s not so easy to listen to ourselves and recognise our own needs.

It’s comforting to know that there is always someone you can reach out to you if you are facing personal loss. In these specialist sectors of our communities we are often fortunate to be surrounded by professional, empathetic people who know exactly what to say to grieving friends and colleagues. They won’t shy away from asking how you are, listening to your worries or having difficult or painful conversations.

Sharing your feelings with colleagues is a good starting point but, depending on your organisation, your first port of call for formal support and understanding will usually be your line manager.

When you’ve lost a loved one, the last thing you need is to be under pressure to carry on working as normal. Compassionate workplaces and managers will give you permission to take time out to reflect, talk, and tap into things that can help you slowly accept your situation and begin to heal.

No two people’s grieving is the same. Each of us deals with our loss in an individual way and a good employer will be as supportive and adaptable as possible, taking into account the special circumstances we are faced with in our jobs and the need to keep services running.

Crossovers with cases you deal with professionally may inflame your personal distress. Maybe you have lost an elderly parent with the same degenerative disease as one of your patients or there’s a young person under your care who is the same age as a personal friend who has died. These are the kind of trigger points that can be avoided by accepting that someone else may need to step in to take over particular tasks for a while.

Many health and care organisations will have robust in-house policies for good practice when managing bereavement, including arranging compassionate leave and smoothing the way for your return to work when you’re ready.

Line managers can be prepared to handle personal bereavement within their teams by becoming familiar with their organisation’s bereavement and compassionate leave policies.

If you are a health care professional, you may already have established relationships with your local hospice and, like St Luke’s, they will probably be more than happy to offer you or your teams advice on how to cope with personal grief when death and bereavement are part of your job.

  • Common feelings after bereavement are anger, shock, numbness, sadness, fear, guilt and anxiety. You may also experience physical symptoms like difficulty sleeping and eating.
  • It’s OK to take time to process what has happened and look after yourself. Rest, try to sleep and eat well, get outside in the natural world and reach out for support from family, friends and colleagues.
  • It may be very difficult dealing with other people’s grief and distress while you are grieving yourself and a period of compassionate leave could be beneficial.
  • Try to retreat to a quiet place for reflection to punctuate your working day – perhaps a hospital chapel, a library or outdoors in nature.
  • Don’t be afraid to talk about the person you’ve lost and find comfort in rituals, a funeral and personal remembrances.
  • If you are worried how you are feeling, speak to your GP and consider external counselling. Services, like those provided 24 hours a day by Simplyhealth, can be invaluable – grief can often be at its darkest and most painful in the early hours when no one else is around. You may not think you need this straight away but grief can sometimes feel more difficult after the initial period of shock and realisation.

For more information on death, dying and grief in the workplace visit Hospice UK’s Dying Matters Awareness Week

/by

Our Care

Support us

Courses

Information