The Story

In January 2015 our Dad, Nigel Halsey, started to feel unwell.  As anyone who knew him will agree, it was unlike him to be unwell for more than a day, and he was as stoic as they come.  However, we weren't unduly concerned initially, it was January after all, and flu symptoms didn't seem like anything to be worried about, and it seemed unlikely to be anything serious.  Except it was serious.  Dad was admitted to The Royal Surrey at the end of January.  Initially, the doctors had no idea what was wrong, even after numerous tests.  After two weeks he was diagnosed with a massive abdominal aortic aneurysm, complicated hugely by the fact that he was immunosuppressed (he took strong medication to control rheumatoid arthritis) and also had a serious blood infection.  He was taken by ambulance from Royal Surrey straight to Frimley Park for overnight emergency surgery.  We all spent hours by his side in ICU at Frimley and over two weeks there we had moments of real hope.  The surgical team were fantastic and Dad pulled through two long extremely complicated emergency operations, thanks to the work of the doctors and staff.  Despite this, it was decided that his situation was deteriorating and he was sent to St George's Hospital in Tooting. He was admitted into cardiothoracic ICU and stayed there for a week, in an isolated room, while the team prepared him as best they could for a final surgery.  Devastatingly for Dad, and for all of his family and close friends, he did not wake up following that surgery.  The decision was made to turn off his life support on 6th March, 2015.  His wife and 4 children were all with him when he died. Dad was an absolute trooper during his final weeks.  He was scared and extremely unwell, but he fought so hard, and we are very lucky to have been able to spend so much time with him, thanks to the work of the staff at Frimley Park, and then at St George's.   

The Cause

We are walking to raise money for St George's.  Dad's final operation was conducted by some of the world's best surgeons, and every day they work tirelessly, managing to save the lives of people who are gravely ill. If Dad could have been saved, they would have done it. Our goal is to raise enough to refurbish the visitor's waiting room for the cardiothoracic ICU unit.  It is a place where families in shock and turmoil spend a lot of time, in the most serious of circumstances, some are there for hours of every day over a period of many weeks.  It is somewhere to gather thoughts and energy in between bedside visits and we would love to make it more comfortable and better equipped than it is.  Alternatively the money will be used to help fund an essential new piece of equipment in this world renowned ward.  Either way, we will work with the hospital to put the money to very specific and very good use.  

The Challenge

Now lighter matters (relatively speaking!) ... the walk itself.  We didn't want to do something easy, or so we told ourselves in January when we signed up to this challenge.  It seemed pretty simple, as we meandered along on our 10km, wrapped up in scarves and hats, sipping on hot chocolate.  What could be simpler than walking along for 100km (split over 2 days, one 55km day and one 45km day), listening to the odd podcast chatting along the way?  We love walking after all!   

Several months and hundreds of miles of training walks later and we know a bit better.  It's a very long way! Deep blisters are no joke. It might rain. It could be blisteringly hot.  We might collapse. We really don't have that much to talk about and we have listened to so many podcasts on our training walks that we know everything there is to know already, and there's no point listening to any more.  

After 'just' a 40km training walk we couldn't put one more step in front of the other - and that wasn't up hills, that was along the Thames path with coffee breaks.  Another day we were supposed to walk all the way from Walton-On-Thames to London Waterloo and our legs literally gave up walking at Putney.  They just stopped swinging. We kept stopping to take off our shoes and socks, thinking that might somehow help matters, only to put them back on again minutes later.  We ended up getting a bus. 

It's going to be tough... but then that's the point. We want to work hard for the money and do something meaningful in memory of our tough, brave Dad, who passed away so many years before he should have done. We like to think of him, up in the sky, looking down on us walking, whilst playing a suitably dramatic opera aria as one or both of us cry with exhaustion, only to pick ourselves up and continue walking! If you have a few pounds to donate we would be hugely grateful.  Every penny raised will make the harder it will to quit when our legs burn, when our blisters burst, and we will simply have to keep our legs swinging even when they really want to stop.  

And there are no buses on the route.

Help.