Thursday 26 June and overnight till Friday morning, 27 June

The day before, a syringe driver had been installed to deliver a cocktail of drugs for pain relief. Meanwhile, Patti had become unable to swallow, so (as discussed amongst ourselves and in accord with the doctors) we had withdrawn all dexamethasone. We had been dosing her heavily in order to keep her in the best spirits possible, knowing that sudden withdrawal would precipitate her death within 36 hours.

Debbie and Laura from Hythe Hospital arrived at ten o'clock on that Thursday morning to recalibrate the syringe driver.

Patti appeared more peaceful as the day progressed, decreasing in awareness of her surroundings and circumstances, though we all thought and hoped she was conscious of her family being around her. We took it in turns to stay with her, holding her hand and talking to her, each staying for a couple of hours. At two o'clock on Friday morning it was Anna's turn. I went to sleep in my bed next to Patti. By half past three her breathing had became much shallower and more intermittent, so at a quarter to four Anna woke me and the others. We all held Mum whist she died at about four o'lock in the morning.

POSTSCRIPT

Since Christmas Eve Patti had not had to spend any time in hospital; every night she had slept in her own bed with at least one of her family there to look after her. Patti died at home, as she had wished. Cliff Wright took her funeral six days later on Thursday, 3 July. Twelve of us, the close family including grandchildren, took Patti's ashes to the Isle of Wight the following day, Friday 4 July — Independence Day and Stu's birthday. Dan had obtained permission for a minibus to drive us all up to the Needles Battery. From there we walked to the Tennyson Monument at the top of the Down, where Patti had walked with us six months earlier. We each took a handful of ashes to scatter in the wind. It was as she had asked us.