Sharron's story - My daughter Katie 

My daughter Katie had a complex neurological condition. It affected her movement and fine motor skills, made it hard for her to concentrate, caused memory lapses and impacted her ability to plan or process things.

It all started with her having trouble using her hands, and then her balance began to go. Watching your child slowly lose parts of themselves is devastating. But in the middle of all that pain, there was one place where we found peace, Dove House.

Everybody at the hospice knew Katie. They knew her name, her smile, her favourite films. That meant the world to me. She wasn’t just a patient, she was Katie, and they cared deeply for her and for us as a family.

Before the pandemic, she used to come to Day Therapy with her Personal Assistant. She felt at ease there and got to know the team really well. During that same time, my husband Kevin who had the same condition as Katie, but more advanced had respite stays at the hospice too. Katie got used to Dove House as a safe place, one that cared for her dad with dignity and kindness. That comforted her, and it comforted me. I never worried when Katie was at the hospice. I knew she was in the best hands.

There was a moment I’ll never forget. My dad became seriously unwell, and I got a call from the hospital saying I needed to get there fast. But I couldn’t leave Katie, she needed constant care. I rang the hospice in a panic, and they managed to admit Katie for respite care Because of that, I got to be with my dad in his final moments. I will never stop being grateful for that kindness. It meant everything.

As Katie’s condition worsened, she needed to be PEG-fed and required round-the-clock care. I was struggling to manage her pain at home. It was heartbreaking, I was trying so hard but it wasn’t working, and I knew we needed help. The hospice welcomed her again, this time for pain management, and when her health declined even further, they were there every step of the way.

They didn’t just care for her, they loved her. Every nurse, every doctor, every member of staff wanted the best for Katie, and you could see that in everything they did. They found ways to make her laugh, chatted to her about her favourite films, even sang with her. They helped to give her a proper bath, something we just couldn’t do at home anymore, and washed her hair. Those small acts of love meant so much.

Even through the most difficult times, the hospice listened to me. I always felt involved in her care, like we were making decisions together. They were constantly looking for new ways to make things better for Katie. Nothing was too much trouble.

The support didn’t stop with Katie, they supported me too. When things became really hard, our extended family were even able to stay in the family suites above the hospice. It meant so much to have them nearby, to not be alone.

Christmas at the hospice was one of the hardest times of my life, but also one of the most unexpectedly beautiful. Even in such a dark moment, Dove House made sure there was still light. Decorations went up, little treats appeared, and one of the Care Assistants even bought me a gift. I cried. It was so thoughtful.

On Christmas Day, they made sure I had a proper lunch, and they decorated Katie’s room with tinsel, fairy lights, and even a stocking on her bed. I walked in and just burst into tears. I was overwhelmed by the love and effort they had put in for her. She didn’t like bright lights, so we often just sat together with the soft twinkling lights on. It wasn’t Christmas as we knew it, but it was something and it meant the world.

I stayed overnight at the hospice with Katie, right up until the end. They made sure I could be close to her; they knew how much that mattered. Dove House isn’t the sad place people think it might be. Somehow, they make it full of hope, dignity, and warmth. They looked after me just as much as they did Katie.

Losing my dad and husband was really hard but my whole world collapsed again when Katie died. I was broken. Everything just stopped. My days had been full of the routine of being a carer and suddenly there were no more appointments, no more PAs coming and going. I didn’t know who I was anymore. I had never truly lived alone before.

Then I found Welcome Wednesday, the Bereavement Group at Dove House. At first, I felt alone and lost in grief but there, I met people who understood. I could walk in carrying whatever emotion I was feeling and know I was safe. I’ve made real friends there, friends I see outside the group too. It’s given me purpose again, something to look forward to.