Some of you will know something of our present troubles: that Patti is seriously unwell.

I have telephoned some of you, and shall try to call others when I can. Please excuse this joint email; there are so many of you I'd like to contact; individual letters or phone calls would be difficult to fit in when we have so much to get done here.

All the family are assembled here for Christmas: Patti and me along with children Anna, Dan and Caroline; Anna's husband Stuart and Dan's wife Jenny; five grandchildren in order of age, from 10 down to 4 at eighteen month intervals: Katie and Sam (Dan's); Caleb, Naomi and Judah (Anna's).

The bad news

Last Saturday (21 December) we had two visits from out-of-hours GPs, the latest at about 7:00pm. Patti had become increasingly unwell: confusion, faulty memory etc. So by that evening a bed had been found and we were able to take Patti into Southampton General Hospital Acute Medical Unit (AMU), where she stayed for three nights. Later that day she had a CT head scan; Caroline (who is a doctor) and I have seen the scan. The AMU consultant came to see us around 4:00pm with the bad news that Patti had a large brain tumour. By now she was having bad headaches, and was almost unable to communicate except by hand gesture, so two strands of treatment would be initiated: a course of steroids to help reduce the pressure on the frontal lobes of the brain, and a more detailed MRI scan to clarify the diagnosis. The MRI scan took place on Monday, and on Tuesday, Christmas Eve, after consultants' discussion in their regular weekly MDT meeting, we were called in as a family to hear the consultant tell Patti what was wrong and what could be done about it.

We all went to the Wessex Neurological Centre at Southampton General Hospital for a meeting with Dr Sharpe and colleagues at midday on Christmas Eve. His diagnosis is that Patti is suffering from a glioblastoma — a very aggressive brain tumour. [The tumour is large: from looking at the scan myself I'd say it is about 3 cm wide: a quarter of the width of the brain; triangular and pressing on the two frontal lobes, which are thereby compressed, leading to the malfunction and headaches.] Surgery is not practical because the tumour is situated in the very middle of the brain, in the Corpus callosum, where the two halves of the brain communicate with each other. Without treatment the statistical likelihood is of death within two or three months. The only treatment offered is radiotherapy: a short but very intensive course over ten consecutive working days. That has to be preceded by the formation of a face mask to ensure that on each treatment occasion Patti's head can be held in exactly the same position. The treatment cannot be repeated, and it is unlikely that supplementary chemotherapy would give significant added benefit. So after the fortnight of radiotherapy we can expect at best a year or so of reasonable quality life: the aim is palliative, not curative. Patti had to choose whether or not to opt for this treatment. She has signed up, and so she has an appointment for the the face mask and positioning scan on Monday coming. I expect that a timetable for the radiotherapy will be agreed at the same time.

The good news

With the steroids, Patti is feeling much better and functioning nearly normally. Egged on by Dan, Patti is not going to let this thing beat her: she has a very positive attitude, as always, and will 'surprise them all'.

Caroline established contact with Patti's own GP, Nikki Sheppard (I'm going to call her the good shepherd!) so this afternoon she called here and spent time with us. Nikki will be available on call, and will arrange with the Oakhaven Hospice in Lymington for a Macmillan Nurse to get to know Patti.

We have been together as a family over the past several days; everyone is pulling together; we are getting to know and understand each other very well, and are focussed on doing what we can do to help Mum. There will be another close family member (apart from me) here in support till a while after the radiotherapy treatment.

On Christmas Day we all had a wonderful family time together: the younger members did all the shopping and cooking, Mum being guest of honour in her own house. It was a lovely day.

As soon as he heard about this, Ryc Smith, priest in charge at Beaulieu (affectionately known as Ryc the Vic) very kindly offered to interrupt his own family Christmas to come here to our house on Boxing Day to give Holy Communion to Patti and me.

Picking up on that, we decided we'd like to take the opportunity of rededicating our marriage. So we had a great family celebration in the conservatory; every one from youngest and oldest participated fully in the service. Patti's wedding ring had had to be removed in hospital for the MRI scan, so Dan was my best man, producing the ring so I could replace it on Patti's finger. Caroline stood by with lubricant to get the ring on Patti's finger where it belongs.

The Christmas cake which Patti had made was converted into a Wedding Cake. Anna did the icing and decorated it with holly and ivy. Then she piped round the edge both our names, along with the first few words of psalm 121. We chose that psalm because it had been sung at our wedding in 1970 and was to be said again by all of us together at the service.

For a copy of the service click here

Here are some pictures taken on Christmas Day, Boxing Day and on the following bright Sunday at Hillier Gardens