In her no-holds-barred column, Irish singer, actress and TV star Linda Nolan speaks candidly about living with cancer, a disease that has also struck sisters Anne and Coleen and took the life of their sister Bernie. This week Linda’s been asked to think about making arrangements for her funeral
There was laughter coming from the hospice when I arrived on Tuesday morning. A Christmas party was in full swing over in the wellbeing centre. It must be working, is all I can say.
I know, laughter’s not what you expect, is it? It’s not what I tend to think of when I think “hospice”. Which I try not to, if I’m honest!
But I’ve been going regularly now for a while, for physio and reflexology, and it’s all starting to feel a bit more… normal. It’s normally a quiet place – I can’t lie. But they do all sorts here, including social groups – it was one of them having the party. They build a relationship with you before you make your final visit, so to speak. It sort of helps remove the elephant in the room.
The lovely nurse who met me was certainly oblivious to large animals. She came in like a bowling ball, northern and chatty, and asked me if I’d “thought about any arrangements”.
I must stress this wasn’t our first meeting. She nursed Bernie and is just lovely. It was in my face, but at the same time I didn’t mind. I need to talk about this stuff. And, being me, I’ve made very few “arrangements”.
She asked me straight if I’m afraid. And I replied that yes, I am afraid of dying. And sad, too. And she said I could call her anytime, that they’re there to talk about anything.
You only tend to think about hospice care as an end of the road thing. With all the debate around assisted dying it came up a lot, the quality of end of life care. What you often don’t realise is the care can begin many months beforehand.
I didn’t mind her making me think. I probably need to get the family together and talk. Bernie had her funeral planned down to which cars people were to sit in – I’ve not planned a thing. It’s not made me feel low, but maybe more in control. More like “this is my moment” kind of thing. Well, that’s showbiz.
Talking of showbiz, I felt properly glam again at the end of last week. I had a full-on magazine photoshoot at a fancy hotel, rooms overlooking a lake, stylist, make-up artist, the works. A team of seven just for little old me.
Boy, did I need them. Just before we left the house I got out the stairlift and fell crashing back into it, whacking my head on the mechanics.That sounds more like it, doesn’t it? There was even blood.
I’m fine, and we were only a tad late. And thankfully, there was enough make-up to hand. They’d received the trowel memo…
But I don’t do things by halves, do I?