‘Twiston deserved a better ending than this’
My husband Twiston always hated to miss a party. He was gregarious, and happiest when surrounded by friends. Next month was going to be the big one: our golden wedding anniversary, for which we’d planned a large celebration. But it was never to be.
Having retired 10 years ago from a 40-year career at The Daily Telegraph, where he variously worked as Letters Editor, Peterborough Editor and Chief Obituary Writer, David Twiston Davies had kept himself busy writing book reviews and obituaries and contributing to two quarterly magazines.
But on December 23, he received a diagnosis of liver cancer. An appointment was made for him to be seen a month later. Our four children, all in their 30s and 40s, were horrified.
“Mum,” they protested, “this is cancer. It’s supposed to be fasttracked.” I voiced my concerns, and the NHS Churchill Hospital in Oxford, not far from our home, eventually saw him on January 9. The appointment brought more bad news: the cancer couldn’t be cured. But it could be managed with chemotherapy, with the aim of prolonging Twiston’s life as far as was possible and maintaining the quality of it.
By this point, the weight was falling off him and it was gut-wrenching to see this once larger-than-life character fading before my eyes. Still, we hoped that with the right treatment, he could live for many months more. We certainly hoped to celebrate our June anniversary and ultimately have the burial we as Catholics expect. We couldn’t have known at this point the devastating effect the pandemic would have.
By mid-february, my daughter and I, who together were caring for Twiston, were struggling to cope with it all. He’d started receiving chemotherapy through a PICC line
– a thin catheter inserted in a vein.
On March 26 we were told by a consultant pharmacologist: “I have advised that David is in the highrisk category and if he gets Covid it is most likely to be fatal. We, therefore, advise that he stops treatment, and David and his wife agree with this proposal.”
We hadn’t agreed; rather we had no option. We were offered no support or guidance in dealing with a very sick man. After that we were left with nothing. Not only was Twiston’s treatment stopped, but he’d also been left without any proper pain relief. We felt we’d been utterly abandoned. I wrote to my GP and made my feelings quite clear: “We feel we’ve been dumped by the NHS and left to cope with this disease on our own. It’s a pity we can’t both just die and leave you without the responsibility for both of us.”
The doctor prescribed some codeine for the pain and we soldiered on for another few weeks. As Twiston grew weaker and weaker, my daughter and I were supporting him, dressing him, even brushing his teeth. His swallowing had started to deteriorate and getting down tablets was hard. I knew in my heart the situation we were in was hopeless. I constantly had the feeling we were swimming against the tide. I was watching an intelligent, lively man collapse before my eyes and there was nothing anyone could or would do to help.
Then he fell and banged his head while trying to get out of bed. He decided after this that he’d like to go into a hospice, where the wonderful staff were amazed at how long we had coped with no support and minimal pain relief.
We could only visit him one at a time, but he wasn’t there for long in any case. Four days later he died.
I am left completely distraught. I feel Twiston was denied the death he wanted. A small burial was held, but we couldn’t
He has become a forgotten victim of this pandemic
observe all the usual Catholic customs that mean so much to our family. In succumbing to cancer at 75, my husband became one of the forgotten victims of the pandemic. He didn’t have Covid-19 and probably won’t appear in any of the statistics. He was going to die anyway; but it was a question of when and how.
I appreciate the pressures our health services have been under, but the way we were left to deal with everything ourselves came as a devastating blow.
Twiston was the fulcrum of my emotional life. I miss laughing with him. The children are struggling too, for all our lives revolved around him. He deserved a better ending than this.