Story
I swam the Bournemouth 3.8km Coastal Swim this year in 1hr15mins this year to raise money for Friends of Forset Holme, the Hospice that cared for my Dad so brilliantly both as an outpatient and inpatient, during the last months and days of his life. Please read my story below and give generously - everything counts towards improving the precious last bits of time that families have with their loved ones.
Thank you!
I was never a good swimmer.
Seriously, being nicknamed "The Limpet" in my childhood swimming lessons for my ability to cling to anything rather than actually swim, was not a good start.
My phobia of being in water continued through childhood, teenagehood and into my early twenties. Though I was happy to sail on it and row through it, I was never happy to swim in it.
Once I'd realised that I really wanted to take up triathlon, all this needed to change. I started, almost literally, learning to swim in Toronto in 2007. For the first year I felt as if I was swimming through treacle - elegance and poise didn't figure highly. My first taste of open water swimming came in 2008. I struggled with the concept of straight lines (veering into the safety canoe during my first race) and the paranoia that any minute the monster of the deep would appear from the murk and eat me. Sadly, my fear didn't seem to make me any faster!
My Dad was also not the best swimmer. I learned this when snorkeling with him on the Great Barrier Reef in 1997. Somehow he expected to be moving forward, but there wasn't any movement that I could detect in either his arms or his legs! Having said this, he was an exceptionally talented sailor. He left home (without informing his mother!) aged 17 to join the Royal Navy, qualifying and working as a Morse Code signalman towards the end of World War II. On being decommissioned he joined the Merchant Navy, sailing a huge variety of ships transporting various goods all over the world. Later in life he settled in Salcombe, Devon, skippering yachts for the Island Cruising Club.
Dad's interest in boats continued on into my childhood in Dorset, where I grew up with him and Mum on dinghy sailing trips around Brownsea Island and longer trips on our 24ft long Kingfisher, Nep. He was always a free spirit, an explorer and a strong, fit, outdoors man.
Dad was diagnosed with lung cancer in October 2008. Having already survived both kidney and bowel cancer in his lifetime it came as a huge shock that this time things would be different. Dad was given four months to live.
On returning home from Hospital, many things in life changed. Dad was forced to give away his beloved Jack Russell, Bengy, and face up to a life without long walks across the meadows every day. However, true to form, Dad was not going down without a fight. I would often visit to find him on chairs changing lightbulbs, chopping up 100 seville oranges for this year's batch of marmalade or, my personal favourite, in his shed banging away making a beautiful new gate for his garden.
Dad came into contact with Forest Holme Hospice during his palliative care and it became an absolute rock of support to both of us. Although Dad remained independent in his own home for all but 3 days of his illness, he often visited Forest Holme as an outpatient to receive information and support from their specialist Doctors and nurses. The regular visits provided him with answers to complex questions and most importantly the feeling that someone was "in control" of his care. This was utterly invaluble and kept Dad's morale and determination high. With their support he lived for nine months from his diagnosis, and was still going strong for my wedding in April 2009 - I couldn't have asked for more.
Dad moved to Forset Holme as an inpatient on Friday July 3rd 2009, as he was struggling with his breathing at home. Having been such an independent man, I was surprised with how at ease he seemed to be, all due of course to his regular visits there to see the Doctors - he knew the staff and he knew his surroundings. He was comfortable, he felt safe and secure in their care. The philosophy of Forest Holme is remarkable, it does not feel like a hospital. There's a lovely, modern living space, with wide screen TV and leather couches. There are beds for family to stay over. The staff are bright and cheery, and nothing you ask of them is too much.
Dad passed away peacefully on the morning of Monday 6th July, having seen most of his family, and of course Bengy the dog, for the last time on Sunday. The staff were overwhelmingly supportive to both myself and Jared, who had stayed the night to be there, and were with him when he died. The standard of care and attention is second to none and made a huge difference to how I feel about those last days with Dad. You spend months fearing what the end will be like, but the Hospice provides comfort, dignity and support. I cannot thank the staff enough for all that they did.
Forest Holme depends on donations and fundraising efforts to continue the high standard of care that it currently provides. I have been looking for a challenge to raise funds for them, and the Bournemouth 3.8km Coastal Swim seems very appropriate:
1 - It is a sea swim, linking in with Dad's love of the sea and his career as a sailor
2 - The route is around a piece of coast that Dad sailed many-a-time
3 - The swim will be an enormous challenge for me. Aside from the fact that it is horrendously long (well over twice what I would normally puff my way around in a triathlon), it will be in the sea, subject to waves, tides and dehydration due to salt water - it's going to be tough!
Thanks so much for reading this far, and thank you even more if you are able to sponsor me. Every donation counts, however small, and will allow other families to make the most of their loved one's final days at Forest Holme.
Thank you.
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So please dig deep and donate now.
