Jo loved Christmas so we decorated her room with fairy lights and fake snow. When it snowed that November, we turned her bed towards the window and watched it fall. It was magical.
On Christmas Eve, the team cleared space in the car park for her mum and stepdad to camp overnight. They were there first thing on Christmas morning for bacon sandwiches, then a full Christmas dinner together. Everyone went above and beyond.
A few days before Jo died, her favourite film, Labyrinth, came on TV. I held her hand as she drifted in and out of sleep - a memory I'll treasure forever. Jo died on the morning of 5 January. It was obviously the worst thing that can happen. But somehow, it happened in the most perfect way. Right up until the end, every bit of her care was built around Jo. The love she was shown mattered as much as the medical care.
Why I'm asking you today
Right now, St Peter's can only reach one in three people in our area who need this kind of free care. That means two in three families face what we faced without the tailored support we had. We were so lucky. Please, if you can, give today so more people can be cared for as themselves. Not a diagnosis, not a number, but a person. That’s what Jo had. I'd give anything for someone else to have that too.