
A Funeral for Sally
Donation protected
This is our beloved Sally; Mummy, Fiancee, Daughter and Sister. On Friday 30th October aged just 38, Sally tragically lost her battle with cancer leaving behind her fiance Jon and her 11 month old son Noah. To say we are all utterly heartbroken would go nowhere to describe the pain we are feeling right now. The grief comes and goes in waves, at times making it hard to breathe.
Sally was diagnosed in May after suffering through months of excruciating pain since the birth of Noah in December 2019. At first this was put down to post-pregnancy changes and was then incorrectly diagnosed as gallstones via numerous telephone consultations during lockdown. When she received her cancer diagnosis she was alone in hospital for an emergency gallbladder operation. After a routine scan Sally knew something was wrong when she was left to wait hours for the results then was finally called in to a room faced with 3 specialists, one of whom introduced themselves as an oncologist. There was no easy way to tell her, but she had bowel cancer which they suspected had spread to her liver. Due to Covid-19 restrictions she was alone and was left to break the news to Jon and her family over the phone.
Over the coming weeks Sally was sent home to be with her family and wait for her chemo to start. During this time she pushed the diagnosis to the back of her mind whilst still dealing with unbearable pain and navigating lockdown with her family in a small, one bedroom top floor flat. She felt trapped and scared.
She began her first cycle of chemo in June which made her incredibly sick and had some very unpleasant side effects, but despite this she remained positive and fought on, determined to beat it. But the pain got too much. She said it felt like her stomach was about to explode so was blue-lighted to hospital, again alone, for a life saving operation which she was terrified she wouldn't wake up from. Sally's tumour had ruptured and she had a dangerous infection. Unfortunately when they operated they found that the tumour in her bowel was too big and too complicated to remove, so her large intestine was permanently sealed up and pulled through an opening in her stomach attached to a stoma bag. She had 36 staples in her op site and various tubes in and out of her stomach to drain the infection. She spent many days in intensive care and the road home from there was a long one. During this time she was given the news that the cancer was very aggressive and would be almost impossible to beat. She was put in touch with the Palliative Care team and the local hospice, Rennie Grove, who provided invaluable support and care in her last weeks. Sally didn't see this as 'end of life' care, more 'quality of life' care, and was determined to get home to her family and make some memories together. She talked fondly of things she wanted to do with Noah, places she wanted to go. She never asked for much. One of her biggest wishes was simply to take him to the seaside.
Some weeks later she was strong enough to re-start chemo. But after one short cycle she took a turn for the worse and was taken in to hospital on Friday 23rd October with severe dehydration and dangerously low electrolytes caused by the vomiting as a result of her treatment. She was put on a drip to balance her levels and was also on antibiotics for signs of an infection. After a few nights spent on the ward she was sent home to be with her family late in the evening on Tuesday 27th October. We spoke to her on Wednesday, she was so relieved to be home. She was upbeat and positive, and despite the cancer having spread to her lymphnodes, she was still determined to beat it. They were just about to go out for some fresh air as a family. We told her we loved her and said goodbye. That was the last time we spoke to her.
Sally woke up on Friday morning in a bad way. Jon thought she'd simply had a tiring day previously and a bad night, so they waited for the Hospice nurses to make their weekly visit. Her condition got worse and at 1 pm I spoke to Jon who told me that it wasn't looking good. The nurses recommended that she go to hospital, but Sally wouldn't go. She wanted to be at home with Jon and Noah. He had been advised to contact her family, and we all made plans to go and visit her. To say our goodbyes. Then at 4.15pm, just as we were about to leave, we received the devastating news that she had passed with Jon by her side, holding his hand. She simply stopped breathing.
None of us were prepared for this outcome. Sally's battle lasted just 6 months. She went through the rollercoaster of emotions that comes with a cancer diagnosis, but on the whole remained positive and strong. We talked about setting small goals, Noah's first birthday, taking him to the seaside, taking him swimming for the first time, things that the rest of us take for granted. Because of Covid-19 restrictions, she wasn't able to do any of this. Instead she found her joy in the small things like watching him begin to take his early steps, and pushing him on a swing at the park. As her family we are now more determined than ever to help Jon do these things with Noah.
So here we are, dealing with the grief of losing a loved one and facing the prospect of not being able to afford to give her the funeral she deserves. A basic burial costs £4320. Jon had to give up work to care for Sally and Noah, they had no savings and Sally's battle with cancer was so quick, they never had time to plan and save for this outcome. Although the rest of her family have limited savings, it goes without saying that we will help. Jon may be entitled to a small grant to help towards the cost of her funeral but it won't be enough. So please, after reading her story, donate to her cause. The smallest donations will make so much difference. In the event of excess funds being raised, these will be given to Jon and Noah to give them a head start in their life without Mummy.
Sally was diagnosed in May after suffering through months of excruciating pain since the birth of Noah in December 2019. At first this was put down to post-pregnancy changes and was then incorrectly diagnosed as gallstones via numerous telephone consultations during lockdown. When she received her cancer diagnosis she was alone in hospital for an emergency gallbladder operation. After a routine scan Sally knew something was wrong when she was left to wait hours for the results then was finally called in to a room faced with 3 specialists, one of whom introduced themselves as an oncologist. There was no easy way to tell her, but she had bowel cancer which they suspected had spread to her liver. Due to Covid-19 restrictions she was alone and was left to break the news to Jon and her family over the phone.
Over the coming weeks Sally was sent home to be with her family and wait for her chemo to start. During this time she pushed the diagnosis to the back of her mind whilst still dealing with unbearable pain and navigating lockdown with her family in a small, one bedroom top floor flat. She felt trapped and scared.
She began her first cycle of chemo in June which made her incredibly sick and had some very unpleasant side effects, but despite this she remained positive and fought on, determined to beat it. But the pain got too much. She said it felt like her stomach was about to explode so was blue-lighted to hospital, again alone, for a life saving operation which she was terrified she wouldn't wake up from. Sally's tumour had ruptured and she had a dangerous infection. Unfortunately when they operated they found that the tumour in her bowel was too big and too complicated to remove, so her large intestine was permanently sealed up and pulled through an opening in her stomach attached to a stoma bag. She had 36 staples in her op site and various tubes in and out of her stomach to drain the infection. She spent many days in intensive care and the road home from there was a long one. During this time she was given the news that the cancer was very aggressive and would be almost impossible to beat. She was put in touch with the Palliative Care team and the local hospice, Rennie Grove, who provided invaluable support and care in her last weeks. Sally didn't see this as 'end of life' care, more 'quality of life' care, and was determined to get home to her family and make some memories together. She talked fondly of things she wanted to do with Noah, places she wanted to go. She never asked for much. One of her biggest wishes was simply to take him to the seaside.
Some weeks later she was strong enough to re-start chemo. But after one short cycle she took a turn for the worse and was taken in to hospital on Friday 23rd October with severe dehydration and dangerously low electrolytes caused by the vomiting as a result of her treatment. She was put on a drip to balance her levels and was also on antibiotics for signs of an infection. After a few nights spent on the ward she was sent home to be with her family late in the evening on Tuesday 27th October. We spoke to her on Wednesday, she was so relieved to be home. She was upbeat and positive, and despite the cancer having spread to her lymphnodes, she was still determined to beat it. They were just about to go out for some fresh air as a family. We told her we loved her and said goodbye. That was the last time we spoke to her.
Sally woke up on Friday morning in a bad way. Jon thought she'd simply had a tiring day previously and a bad night, so they waited for the Hospice nurses to make their weekly visit. Her condition got worse and at 1 pm I spoke to Jon who told me that it wasn't looking good. The nurses recommended that she go to hospital, but Sally wouldn't go. She wanted to be at home with Jon and Noah. He had been advised to contact her family, and we all made plans to go and visit her. To say our goodbyes. Then at 4.15pm, just as we were about to leave, we received the devastating news that she had passed with Jon by her side, holding his hand. She simply stopped breathing.
None of us were prepared for this outcome. Sally's battle lasted just 6 months. She went through the rollercoaster of emotions that comes with a cancer diagnosis, but on the whole remained positive and strong. We talked about setting small goals, Noah's first birthday, taking him to the seaside, taking him swimming for the first time, things that the rest of us take for granted. Because of Covid-19 restrictions, she wasn't able to do any of this. Instead she found her joy in the small things like watching him begin to take his early steps, and pushing him on a swing at the park. As her family we are now more determined than ever to help Jon do these things with Noah.
So here we are, dealing with the grief of losing a loved one and facing the prospect of not being able to afford to give her the funeral she deserves. A basic burial costs £4320. Jon had to give up work to care for Sally and Noah, they had no savings and Sally's battle with cancer was so quick, they never had time to plan and save for this outcome. Although the rest of her family have limited savings, it goes without saying that we will help. Jon may be entitled to a small grant to help towards the cost of her funeral but it won't be enough. So please, after reading her story, donate to her cause. The smallest donations will make so much difference. In the event of excess funds being raised, these will be given to Jon and Noah to give them a head start in their life without Mummy.
Fundraising team (6)
Liana Baxter
Organizer
Cathy Watts
Beneficiary
Kevin Watts
Team member
Jon Trantham
Team member
Kim Watts
Team member
Haydn Baxter
Team member