So there I was stuck back in hospital with the OSO, both of us with rotten chest infections! She said she was fed with me having everything wrong with me she was going to have a go!
Needless to say, mine was a lot worse because by the time they had x-rayed me they find out that I had pneumonia in both of my lungs. Well if you’re going to do it, you might as well do it properly! So I had to have loads of antibiotics through my line. On the other hand, the OSO just had a really bad chest infection, though it didn’t stop her trying to kick me out of my bed so she could get in instead. What with her and Dad, who always ate my food and then fell asleep when he came to visit me every evening, I really did have a lot to put up with!
It wasn’t a great deal of fun in hospital, I had to be in a room on my own ‘cause they didn’t want me to infect everybody else, the only bright spot was that I got to miss having to take my mock GCSE’s as I was in hospital, to be honest I was quite surprised that school didn’t bring them for me to do in hospital!
Eventually I got better enough to go home again, but I still couldn’t manage full days at school, so I went back to picking and choosing which lessons I went to.
By March I was feeling pretty grotty, and one Tuesday Sheffield United had a match at home in the evening, so I just went into school for the morning and came home at lunch time so I could rest in the afternoon so I could go to the match in the evening, cunning plan eh? I knew what my priorities were!
However, things didn’t go quite according to plan because I was struggling to breathe; I had an oxygen cylinder at home by this time so that usually helped me to breathe if I was struggling, but that day even that didn’t help. The OSO and I came to the conclusion that as much as I wanted to go to the match, I really wasn’t fit enough to go.
The problem was that Ali and Roger were also due to go, but that was soon solved as Claire said she’d take them with Sam, her son and our good friend, so in the end that was what happened. Needless to say, I was not dead chuffed went they all went off to watch my beloved United.
I struggled during the evening with my breathing, Mum rang my cancer nurse who promised to come round with some more oxygen, the OSO also rang our lovely GP, so I could tell she was worried. Dad was home by this time. Mum wanted to stay and sit with me in my room, but I said I was fine thank you. As ever, being the person that she is she kept coming back into my room to see how I was doing. It got to nine o’clock and I was wanting to know what the score was at the match, when I suddenly really couldn’t breathe and my heart was going mad, Mum kept hugging me and Dad was there, eventually I got my breath back a bit enough to tell the OSO that it’s true what they say, your life does flash in front of you; and then I’d gone off again.
This time it was for good.
That was it, I wouldn’t breathe ever again. The Muscular Dystrophy and cancer had finally beaten me.
As you might imagine, that night was dreadful.
Dad had phoned Claire who was on her way home from the match what had happened, so she stopped for a pizza, like you do, on the way home to give Mum and Dad time to try and sort things out a bit, The doc arrived and she was great as was the cancer nurse who had just arrived with the oxygen cylinder!
When the brothers arrived home they were devastated I had died. (I should hope so too!) Eventually they managed to get Ali into bed and Sweep, our collie dog, did something he has never done before or since and he jumped onto Ali’s bed and stopped there with him all night.
The funeral people came and took me away, I think that was one of the worse moments for the OSO who didn’t get any sleep all that night.
The next day Ali’s rugby team was due to play in the Derbyshire cup final; so good lad, he went in and played and they won, cheered on by the rest of the family, when you can’t let things get in your way!
I was glad to say, that school did a lot of counselling for my mates who were upset that I had died.
The next thing to do was to arrange my funeral, which was sorted out, as you can imagine by Dad and the OSO. She stood up and talked all about me at the funeral service. She said she’d been to so many funerals in the past where someone who didn’t know the person talked about them when they had died. She said she wanted to do it. I know she found that really hard, because when she was out walking the dogs on the morning of my funeral, she had a little chat with me, and asked to get her through it, which I did of course.
There were loads and loads of people at my funeral. I was dead chuffed with the attendance! The parents and Roger and Alistair had decided that they were going to walk in with me accompanied by the music that Sheffield United played in the ground when they scored a goal! Well, as ever they liked to be different! The brilliant thing was that the particular recording of this song they played at my funeral was one that had been recorded at the game with Liverpool earlier that season (which we won) and I was at the match, so somewhere my cheering was on that recording. That has to be a first I think; how many people can say that they cheered themselves into their own funeral!!!?