Five years ago today, my life changed forever. It was a day I had been expecting to come for a while, and had been warned about, though it was still a shock when it actually did happen. It's the day my wife, Joy, died.

Joy had been diagnosed with cancer in February 2020, and had been undergoing chemotherapy during the summer. This was during the Covid outbreak, so Joy was classed as extremely vulnerable, and by extension so was I, and we managed to get through that without catching Covid itself. Joy of course was unwell for most of 2020 and 2021 - she had chemo during the summer of 2020, then a cardio-version in September. Fortunately she was ok over Christmas, which was our last Christmas together.

Early in 2021 Joy started being sick. Really sick. This puzzled us because as part of the chemo treatment she was given anti-sickness tablets. Yet she was being sick. I was thinking it was being caused by food we were eating, even stress. But eventually we saw a specialist and they found a brain tumour. The position of the tumour was at the back of head where the brain determines if you need to go to the toilet, or throw up, hence the constant sickness.

Joy had the tumour removed on 1st April 2021, an operation which was successful. However, she still wasn't well, and was still being sick. According to a doctor, fluid was gathering where the tumour had been, which needed to be drained. She had another operation for that. When I brought her home, we tried watching television (on the Monday evening) but I could tell she still wasn't right. By Thursday we were concerned enough (she was still being sick) to get her admitted to hospital again. This time they would fit a shunt (I think that's what the doctor called it) to drain the brain for her. Again, that operation was a success.

Whilst waiting to be discharged (there was paperwork to fill in so Joy could have help at home), she was sick again. I took a change of clothing for her, and asked a nurse why it was still happening, to which the nurse replied that maybe Joy could smell the food which made her sick. (Really! That's what she said!). Joy and I managed to have a chat in the corridor of the hospital whilst trying to stay 6 feet apart (lockdown restrictions), and that ended up being the last time I saw her. A couple of days later, she had texted to say she'd been sick again but hoped to feel better the next day. I messaged her first thing to ask how she was and there was no reply. She hadn't even read the message. That's when I thought something was wrong. (The other possibility is that her phone needed charging and she was confused as to how to do it, as she had been before). Around lunchtime, as I was about to ring the hospital and ask how Joy was and whether she needed her phone charging, they rang me to ask me to pop in. "This is it.", I thought. "This can't be good."

Arriving at the hospital a doctor and nurse had told me that Joy had died during the ward round, when doctors check on the patients in the ward. Her heart had decided it was enough, and that was that. Joy was in a hospital, surrounded by doctors, and even they couldn't save her. It was time for her to go. When I spoke to a coroner a few days later I asked that if Joy had been discharged when she should have been (if we had the right paperwork done), would she still have died but at home. The coroner confirmed that she would. Although some people might think it would have been better for her to die at home, I'm glad she was in hospital with people with the skills to save her and couldn't, rather than the last thing she saw would be me panicking or upset as to what was happening. When Joy died, a nurse put a small purple woollen heart in Joy's hand and made her clinch it. When the nurse took me to see Joy, she took the woollen heart from Joy's hand, and put it in mine. It now lives on Joy's bedside table.

The drive home was one of the longest in my life. Probably because I went the wrong way! For some reason, I drove towards Derby. By this time it was rush hour, so I got stuck in traffic on the A52 near the city centre. That's when I decided that I would fulfil mine and Joy's dream of going to America for our 25th wedding anniversary which would be a few years later. I went to New York in July 2024, and absolutely loved it. I took a photo of Joy with me, and took photos of that photo at various landmarks as if she was there with me. Also near Derby, I came to my senses, wondered what I was doing there, and went home.

Thankfully I had arranged to take time off from work before then as I needed to get Joy more help at home and look at a hospice. I had a few weeks left before I needed to go back, which would take me until after her funeral.

I think I'm getting on with life without her, and still miss her terribly. When we were told her cancer was terminal, I had assumed it would be gradual and I would be able to say goodbye to her properly, though her passing away at the hospital is probably for the better.

Cancer can f**k off!