The night-time carer who felt more like a friend than a stranger

Dad was the sort of man who never had a bad word to say about anybody, and nobody had a bad word to say about him. He was outgoing, kind, and he’d do anything for anyone. Even as Managing Director, he’d work the bank holidays, so his staff didn’t have to.

He was strong and really active. Even when he started to get poorly, Dad continued to work and do all the things he loved.

Dad first went to the doctors because he thought he’d pulled a muscle, and that appointment led to his melanoma diagnosis. He had the moles removed, and I remember feeling quite positive because there was a solution.

But when the cancer came back, it was different. It had metastasised throughout his body, and it felt like we were waiting months for answers about treatment. All we could think about was that it was getting worse.

When Dad finally started immunotherapy, it was working and I felt quite positive. He was strong as always, with hardly any side effects. But towards the end of 2023, the cancer spread further. We started to feel quite desperate, and Dad didn’t want to give up.

When we were looking after Dad at home, our local hospice sent a nurse every two weeks, but it was more of a check-in. And when Dad got really sick, they told us they couldn’t help us anymore unless he went into the hospice. But we wanted to honour his wish to stay home, so Mum and I managed his care between us.

For months, we were up multiple times for hours on end, whenever Dad needed something. We both hadn't had a night's unbroken sleep for months on end. And we had no support – carers only came during his final week, to help with pain relief. It was getting harder to cope, and it felt almost cruel to keep him home if we couldn’t get any more support.

Mum happened to remember Marie Curie, and how its nurses cared for her mum at the end of life. Nobody told us about it, mum just remembered. And when she got in contact, it made such a massive difference to us. Hannah, a Marie Curie Healthcare Assistant, visited us twice for night-time care. I felt really apprehensive at first. Leaving Dad with a stranger seemed to defeat the point of him being at our house.

So that first night, I slept on the floor beside him and was almost watching what Hannah was doing. But she never took any attention off him. She was really calm, nurturing and constantly trying to read his needs. If he looked uncomfortable, she went straight over.

The next morning, I felt almost upset that Hannah was leaving. I felt so, so safe with her there. When she arrived, it felt like all my stress and anxiety fell to the floor. It helped us become mother and daughter again, rather than primary carers. At one point, we asked Hannah what to expect in the days ahead and she supported us with that, too.

Hannah felt more like a friend or comfort blanket than a stranger. Having someone take the lead when we couldn’t control our emotions was such a relief.

Those two nights showed us how much we needed that help and how many families don’t get it. When we asked Hannah about support for other families caring at home, she told us there are only seven Marie Curie Nurses covering Leicestershire in the week, which drops to just two over the weekend. And that really struck us.

When Dad passed away, we wanted to give back the cost of the care Marie Curie gave us, with the hope of raising a bit more for other families.

We asked for donations instead of flowers and were astounded by the support. We raised £2,000 in memory of my dad, Richard Langton, which will pay for ten nights of care.

We’re so grateful to be able to help other families get the care that we had – Marie Curie’s support made such a massive difference.