Jan Erskine
HERE IS JAN’S STORY, AS TOLD BY HER HUSBAND PETER…
It started at teatime on a Friday evening towards the end of September 2017, I had played golf and was chatting to my wife Jan.
We had five minutes of quiet and when she went to speak again her words would not come out properly. Her eyes said what my mind was thinking. This is a stroke!
I rushed her to the local hospital, as I knew this would be quicker than calling an ambulance. Half shouting ‘She’s had a stroke’, we got through the A&E admin in moments and after two hours of tests the medics agreed it was a stroke.
Two weeks and many tests later we would have been happy to settle for a stroke, as instead of this, Jan was diagnosed with a grade 4 brain tumour. Jan was calm.
Towards the end of October we went to the local centre of excellence for brain tumour surgery at the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford. My daughter had flown back from Australia to join us when meeting with the surgeon to ensure we understood what was said.
The surgeon, who soon became our rock, due to him always being at the end of the phone when needed, recommended ‘awake surgery’. We agreed and the operation booked.
Jan was admitted on the 9th of November. The surgeons explained they keep you awake during the 6 hour operation so that they can be as thorough as possible while removing the tumour as they know to stop when your conversation alters or slurs.
Vas our wonderful surgeon managed to remove most of the villain. The last little bit, however, proved elusive as Jan stopped speaking as they tried to get the last bit and so had to stop.
Jan was out in a few days and despite a month of daily radiotherapy treatment followed by two months of chemo she held up well over the following 8 months, albeit taking life a little slower.
My four kids, two of whom live in Australia, one in the States and one in London made frequent visits back home for big family get togethers, as even after the operation the overall prognosis was that we had 12 to14 months left with Jan.
Sadly the prediction was right. The tumour grew back and by the time a second operation was planned she was too weak to cope with the ordeal.
In August, 10 months or so after the original diagnosis, she got really weak. The third round of chemo hit hard and she became progressively more bed bound, we managed to keep her at home thanks to awesome support from the Sue Ryder ‘hospice at home’ team and a live in carer. The NHS was awesome and frankly Vas the surgeon was a Saint. Always contactable, supportive and upbeat.
On a few occasions Jan would have a meltdown and I was unable to wake her but Vas was at the end of the phone giving his expert advice and we lived to fight another day.
His famous line to me when I emailed him was do ‘use the Mobile to reach me whenever you want, although I do turn it off when in surgery.’ Thank heavens he does.
Certainly the first surgery extended Jan’s time with us. Without this, it was believed that Jan would have died in three months from the original diagnosis.
Jan passed away Late November 2018 and in hindsight, when a second operation was originally suggested maybe we should have grabbed it, maybe he could have removed it all this second time, we’ll never know, but the consensus from the medical team was wait a while and let the chemo have its effect.
Undoubtedly surprisingly little is known about brain tumours and what causes them. There were no obvious reasons why my wife of over 40 years, a mum to 4 and grandma to 5, suddenly got hit on that September evening.
Only by helping the great surgeons refine their techniques, get the latest equipment and run new trials and research, funded by the Brain tumour charity, can we hope to reduce the great sadness caused when this horrible disease strikes.
Peter Erskine
February 2020