Last requests of the dying are simple: love, time, a final taste of gooseberries
Woman running hospice where Liam Miller spent his last days tells Niamh Horan how every effort is made to fulfil wishes
ONE night last week at about 8 o’clock, after most of the staff had gone home, an 88-year-old man arrived at the reception of Marymount Hospice in Cork.
In his hand was a cheque for €25,000. He quietly told a staff member that his sister had died 10 years previously and that Marymount had taken care of her in her final days.
Ever since, he had been saving his pension each week so he could one day give something back. He handed over the cheque and slipped out without another word.
Sitting in her office, University of Marymount hospital and hospice chief executive Dr Sarah McCloskey is visibly moved. “Just amazing,” she says. In a way, death “brings out the best in people”.
With the hospice running at a deficit of €1.5m each year to keep its doors open, she has dozens of similar stories.
Perhaps none more prominent than the case of the Liam Miller fundraiser, held in Cork last Tuesday. The hospice took care of the former Manchester United player until he died four days shy of his 37 th birthday.
Today Dr McCloskey recounts some of the last wishes of the dying. It’s a nice counterpoint to the 2012 list that a palliative nurse in the UK shared of the most common regrets people have at the end of their lives.
On top of the list, from men in particular, is “I wish I hadn’t worked so hard”. The others are as follows: ÷ “I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.” ÷ “I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.” ÷ “I wish that I had let myself be happier.” ÷ “I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.”
The last is particularly poignant. Dr McCloskey says that even in a person’s final days, both they and their family can find it difficult to talk to one another.
The founder of the hospice movement, Cicely Saunders, once echoed this sentiment and gave some advice for those caring for the dying: “Platitudes don’t work,” she said. “Quite often all somebody wants is for people to appreciate that what they are facing is very hard... things are real. But reality, when you come to terms with it, has an extraordinary amount of joy hidden there.”
Dr McCloskey agrees. Right to the end, she says: “People don’t want to upset each other. We try to preserve the ones we love.”
One of the most painful things to talk about is their fear of death, the fact that the end is near and, of course, sharing their final wishes. But when the words come, it can lead to some really special results.
Although healthy people often cite grand plans — such as seeing the wonders of the world — in hypothetical conversations about bucket lists, Dr McCloskey says that when the real time comes, people long for simple things.
“I remember a lady saying ‘I would have thought if anything was ever facing me like this I would want to travel the world. But really I just want to spend time with the people I love. I just want a nice dinner out, I want normality’.
“Kids complain every day about going to school,” says Dr McCloskey, “but when it’s taken from them and they can’t go with their friends, it’s a huge loss. You need to be in the best of health to do the normal things so by managing the pain, nausea and fatigue, we can allow them to do it.”
Marymount has treated babies, teenagers and people of all ages. The staff try their best to cater for every last wish. “The younger ones strike a particular chord,” she says. “It’s very hard for them to face a life-limiting illness and to watch parents in distress. They want to go to school, they want their friends around and if they want their friends all in for a beer and pizzas, we have that.”
One patient asked to savour the taste of her favourite fruit again. “She asked for gooseberries,” Dr McCloskey recalls.
Afterwards the hospice received word from the patient’s relative to say a greyhound had been purchased and a percentage of its winnings would go to the hospice. The name of the dog? Gooseberry.
“We have had quite a few weddings, too — we can pull it out of the bag like Franc,” laughs Dr McCloskey. “You wouldn’t recognise the day rooms. The staff decorate them beautifully and they might buy a bottle of Prosecco for the occasion on the way to work.”
But the common thread through patients’ requests, she says, is simply “being around people they love”.
Last Tuesday night in Cork City Hall, the love for Liam Miller was never more apparent. In the speeches it was remarked how, even when playing for the biggest football club in the world, he retained his humility and treated people with respect.
Michael O’Flynn, the chairperson of the organisation committee, got involved because he had been a next-door neighbour of the Miller family and was friends with Liam’s parents, Bride and Bill, for 40 years.
Last December he had just touched down in Rome when he received a voicemail. It was Liam. He told O’Flynn that he had some bad news and asked if he could meet to talk. In the months ahead, O’Flynn would visit Liam regularly in the hospice.
Following his death, his former manager, Alex Ferguson, described Liam as an incredibly genuine person and said he was amused at how he was so
quiet compared with all the other Irish players who “would never stop talking”.
When Ferguson fell ill it was Roy Keane who stepped up to get other big names on board for the Miller tribute. They included Ryan Giggs, Denis Irwin, Paul Scholes, Nicky Butt, Andy Cole, Gary Neville, Quinton Fortune and Louis Saha.
The Cork man received a thundering three-minute standing ovation when he was called on to the pitch at Pairc Ui Chaoimh, and was commended by many for playing a key part in making the event happen.
Also present on the night were Denis O’Brien, Bryan Robson OBE, Leslie Buckley and Dan and Linda Kiely, and Liam’s doctors from Marymount.
A special thanks went out to Celtic and Dermot Desmond. The absence of some of the GAA’s top brass was noted.
They were invited but sent their apologies.
Liam’s wife Clare and children Kory, Leo and Belle, his mother, father and siblings were also there to witness the love so many had for the player.
The match and gala dinner are understood to have raised in excess of €1m. Before a toast was raised on the night, O’Flynn recalled an old saying: “When the one great scorer comes to write against your name, it matters not that you won or lost — but how you played the game.”
‘It matters not that you won or lost but how you played the game’