It was nine-year-old Harry’s idea.
In November last year, mum Michelle Banks, aged 43, had been admitted to the hospice.
Harry and brother Alfie, aged 10, fully understood that she was very ill: dad Jeff had always been open and honest with them throughout their mum’s illness. Now he had to explain to them that mummy wouldn’t be able to be part of their festive celebrations.
Harry had a solution: what if we had Christmas early so that we could still all be together for the occasion? The nursing team was consulted and what followed was one of the most touching and memorable of the many initiatives undertaken by the hospice team on behalf of their patients…
Jeff and Michelle met in January 2000. He proposed just six weeks later. “It was love at first sight! I didn’t want to lose that feeling I had when I was with her so I thought I’d propose as soon as possible.
“We were married in 2004 and we have two fantastic boys Alfie and Harry. We had a wonderful life as a family – until Christmas 2023.”
Jeff explained: “Michelle just wasn’t herself. She wasn’t engaging with me or the boys. I thought I’d done or said something wrong, to be honest. Couldn’t understand it.
“I was due to take the boys to my mum’s on Christmas morning and asked Michelle to put the meat in the oven while we were out. When we got back nothing had been done and I found Michelle upstairs scrolling on her phone.
“She did come down for dinner but there wasn’t much conversation and she then spent the rest of Christmas Day upstairs. The next day, when I finally got to ask her what was wrong, she started crying and told me that she had tried to talk but couldn’t find the words.
“I realised there was something wrong and wondered whether she had suffered a stroke. Eventually, after various consultations and a CT scan, we were told on 30 December that it was a brain tumour. It was such a shock and so upsetting.
“We were referred to the Walton Centre early in January where a further scan confirmed it was an incurable fast-growing, aggressive stage 4 glioblastoma with a poor average prognosis of 12-18 months life expectancy. There were lots of tears as we considered the options: we opted for surgery and that was to take place just two days later.
“Saying goodbye knowing there was a chance that she may not survive the surgery was so hard. I spent hours in the hospital waiting for some positive news: when I was told Michelle was in recovery, I felt a massive wave of relief come over me.
“After some recovery time at home, Michelle started a 30-day cycle of radiotherapy and chemotherapy involving daily trips to Liverpool. It was so sad when Michelle lost a great deal of her hair – she had always been so proud of it.
“We went on our first ever beach holiday in April. The kids just loved it – it was such a special time for us, particularly knowing what was coming.
“The following month, just as Michelle was preparing to watch son Harry auditioning on Britain’s Got Talent as a member of Chester’s own Amasing Choir on TV, she suffered her first seizure. She did get to watch Harry whilst in the ambulance outside the hospital, thanks to the kindness of the ambulance driver who let her borrow her i-pad.
“A further scan in the summer showed that the tumour was growing again. Michelle asked that we organise two last holidays – one for the two of us and one with the boys. We managed the first one. You still hope that things will get better but deep down I think you realise the truth.
“We had already had one difficult conversation with the boys. Now came the time for another. We sat them down and openly and honestly explained that the tumour was winning.
“We eventually realised that we were going to have to ask for help. Our first contact with the hospice was during the summer and Michelle, and myself started seeing the bereavement counsellor. We also arranged for the Hospice to visit Alfie and Harry in their Primary School at Dodleston.
“By October, Michelle was experiencing mobility problems. She was also struggling to text and losing coordination. Despite her nature of being strong willed, it was proving really difficult getting her up and down stairs.
“November saw a sharp decline. There were more seizures and she was struggling more and more to speak and eat. That when there was the big shock of being told by a nurse that we had only weeks. We were referred to the hospice and admitted three days later on 11 November.
“It was agony coming to terms with the fact that this would be the last time Michelle would leave our home. It was so difficult and emotional, and my tears flowed when the ambulance arrived to take her on her last journey.
“Michelle and I hadn’t got round to the part of the conversation about where she would want to die but there was a bigger picture: I had to consider the needs of the whole family and with her condition deteriorating it just made sense to go to the hospice where she could get all the help, support and facilities she needed.
“It was difficult to know what to expect but there was a such a friendly welcome from everyone and a real sense of peace and quiet: everyone seemed willing and keen to do anything they could to help – and that include the receptionists, the chef and all the nurses and volunteers. I soon knew this was the right place for her. It was just superb and I can’t speak highly enough of the hospice.
“Although I was encouraged by the team to bring them, I didn’t want to take the boys to the hospice until I was satisfied that it was an appropriate environment for them to visit and I was comfortable with them being there. I needn’t have worried!
“There was another very difficult conversation with the boys when I had to explain to them that mum might not be able to be with us at Christmas due to her limited time left with us. That’s when Harry asked: “why can’t we have Christmas early and be together?”
“We discussed the idea with the nursing team and they didn’t hesitate for a second. So many people asked what they could contribute or do to help – they were so determined to make sure that it would be a really special family Christmas for the whole family.
“Michelle was the only patient at the time on a four-bedded ward. The night shift nurses made the time to create a fireplace and hearth, beautifully decorated and with a mantlepiece complete with family photographs. There was even a magnificent Christmas tree there too. Every corner of the room was made to look and feel like Christmas: it all looked so brilliant and so special.
“It was so humbling to see how far people are prepared to go to help others.
“The big day was 15 November. We’d organised presents for the boys, and gifts from them to their mum. Every corner of the room was made to look and feel like Christmas.
“We all wore Christmas jumpers, there was lots of festive food and Santa himself duly arrived to hand out the gifts – all within view of Michelle. Although she couldn’t participate, we made sure we involved her in every aspect of the celebrations. It meant so much to all of us.
“The effort everyone had gone to just blew me away. They really went above and beyond and everyone in the hospice was talking about it. It made us all feel so special.”
Michelle passed away on 23 November. “Everything that has happened here has really opened my eyes to what hospice care is really all about. I didn’t want this to become a sad place for myself or the boys. After everything we’ve experienced here, that could never be the case and the wonderful thing was that even after her short stay, everyone knew of Michelle’s Christmas.”