I'm one of the lucky ones.....

"your positivity is infectious" a twitter follower once told me after I had spoken at a book festival.  I know, I am one of those annoyingly glass half full people who really does try and see the positive side of every situation...

I count my blessings....I understand my privilege...

I understand that the experiences and life I was able to give Daisy when she was alive came from this privilege.  I used skills honed in a successful business career to negotiate and navigate complex systems of health and social care so that I could fight to get the best support for my family.  We live in our own home, in a nice London suburb, in easy reach of a centre of excellence in paediatric care and a children's hospice..

Everything was in place so that when Andy died I was supported in caring for Daisy through my grief and when she reached the end of her life we had already had the difficult conversations, I knew what she wanted, I knew that we had given her the best quality of life possible.  After she died I was able to bring her home to rest.  The children and I were supported through our grief and loss and able to adjust to our new life without Daisy.

I had confidence, life-skills and experience on my side and these all ensured the best outcomes for our family, despite the fights and stress.... I was still one of the lucky ones.  When Daisy was alive we were supported, we received respite breaks, some funded support in the home, excellent palliative care...

It was not perfect but it was so much better than many families like ours.

It should not be like this...it should not come down to a postcode lottery.  It should not be about having the skills and confidence to speak out.  Families caring for the most complex children in the UK should be receiving support regardless of where they live or their ability to shout the loudest.  When a child is terminally ill families should be supported in making plans and optimising their child's quality of life.  When the child dies they should be supported through their grief and afterwards.

Families caring for life-limited, complex children need support, they need to be allowed to focus on their child, not the fight.

I had so much in my favour and yet I still had to fight....

Now, after Daisy's death, I spend all my spare time using my privilege to fight for the other families, I don't want excellent palliative care and end of life planning be down to a postcode lottery.

Earlier this year I spoke at an All Party Parliamentary Group on children who need palliative care.  The report of that group is launched tomorrow in the House of Commons and I will speak again, to an assembled group of all party MPs and members of the House of Lords.  Once again I will share our story, I will talk about the constant stress, the unbearable fatigue and the fight that every family caring for a life limited child has to go through, but I will also tell them about the utter joy that Daisy brought to us in her short but important life.

And when I speak, as always, I speak for all of the families like ours, those who are grieving their child, those who continue to fight.  One day, maybe I won't have to speak out, one day families who care for the most complex children will be able to be families and make the most of their precious time together.

You can read about the work Together for Short Lives charity has been doing with the All Party Parliamentary Group here.

Realistic Resolutions

"I don't make resolutions"

Andy always made this announcement at New Year (whenever I started reeling out my list for the year).

He firmly believed the focus should be about changing habits , not making unrealistic promises.  "It takes six weeks to change a habit" was his rationale and he felt that you didn't need a point in time like a new year to make changes, we should be constantly thinking about what we would like to do differently or change and make realistic goals so we don't set ourselves up for failure.

I do like a resolution however, I love a deadline, it drives me and being a naturally competitive person it gives me something to work towards.

In 2012 I resolved to get back to running again.  I had always been a regular runner, even from my teenage years but it had tapered off as a result of the long hospital stays with Daisy, the comfort eating was making me bloated and I took a look in the mirror and decided that this was not what I wanted.

We are a family, not a cost

Sometimes it feels like I'm a character in some Orwellian nightmare.  Not because of losing Andy or because of any of the children's issues but because my life, my plans, my hopes are all controlled by someone called "The Commissioner"

The Commissioner is a faceless person, they sit in an office, they are not always the same person,  they change frequently.  I have rarely met them but they know me, or rather they know my daughter.  They don't know her name, just her initials.  It's better that way.  The more you know about someone the easier it is to become emotionally involved.  And The Commissioner doesn't want to become emotionally involved.

The Commissioner holds the budget.  They look at their spreadsheets and they see the big figures and wonders who is eating up all of their budget, who is this very expensive person? 

Off to recharge our batteries

Tomorrow Andy and I go to Glastonbury, after Woodstock probably the most iconic music festival in the world..  Friends, family and regular blog readers know that Glasto is my happy place, it's where I can be me, indulge my passion for music, food, dancing, life.

I was so worried a couple of years ago when Andy finally agreed to come along,  I didn't want him to hate the place and not "get" why I love it so much, I needn't have been concerned, he loved it too,  he has since come along to Latitude Festival as well and has truly got the festival bug, aided by the fact that we can really take advantage of the home comforts of our retro VW Camper Van, Charlie.