“Angels on Earth” – Nigel’s final days at St Margaret’s

For nearly three decades, Nigel had been at the centre of Vida’s life – a gentle, thoughtful man with a love of music, books, and history. “He was my best friend,” says Vida. “We did everything together.”

They met 29 years ago, and they clicked instantly. “He was the kindest, most thoughtful man I’d ever come across,” says Vida.

When they decided to marry, they chose New York. It was the year 2000, and they had both been married before. “We said, we’ve done the formal bit before, let’s just go and get married in New York. Nigel always used to say it only cost him $50 – $25 for the license and $25 for the person who married us.”

A friend flew in from California to be their witness, they had lunch at the Plaza Hotel, and on their final night they shared dinner at the top of one of the Twin Towers. “To be honest, they could have served us a McDonald’s up there because the view was just amazing,” Vida says fondly. “We arrived just as the sun was going down.”

Travel was one of the many threads that bound them – holidays in the Maldives, walking trips in the UK, and a trip to Indonesia so Nigel could meet her family. Wherever they went, they were side by side. “Some people used to say he was the postage stamp to my letter,” Vida laughs.

Everything changed in the summer of 2023. They had just returned from a holiday in Portugal when Nigel began feeling that something wasn’t quite right. At first, he dismissed it – travel constipation, perhaps, or haemorrhoids. But eventually he went to the GP.

Vida still remembers the day he came home. “I said, ‘How’d you get on?’ And he said, ‘You’re not going to like this. The doctor thinks it’s cancer.”

Within weeks, scans confirmed an aggressive cancer that had already spread to his liver and lung. The oncologist explained that it was inoperable, and palliative care would be the only way forward. “But he was always a pragmatic person,” Vida remembers. “He would say, ‘It is what it is. I can’t do anything about it.’ It was me going through all the emotions of being angry, being upset, dealing with all the practical things. But we managed it together,” she says.

Radiotherapy began in September, and then later some chemotherapy. However, it soon became clear that the treatments weren’t helping. Nigel grew weaker, the chemo was making him sicker, and the couple knew that it was too much. Vida says, “He decided he just wanted to try and enjoy as much as he could for the time he had left.”

At this time, a St Margaret’s community nurse assessed Nigel at home and decided he needed round-the-clock care. Nigel was admitted to St Margaret’s Hospice on 4 October 2023.

He celebrated his birthday on the ward a month later; Vida brought their dog in to see him and cake for him and the nurses. “I can still remember the fun times he had in his room,” Vida says. “He was always a positive person, and the nurses would always be giggling with him. Those first few weeks were full of fun.”

Around this time, Vida noticed a poster for the Santa Abseil at Cheddar Gorge. “It was completely out of my comfort zone,” she says. “I don’t like heights, I thought it would be freezing, and I hate dressing up. But I thought, if Nigel can suffer and go through what he’s been going through for 15 months, I can jolly well go over the edge of a cliff.”

Vida signed up, and sponsors poured in. “I was astounded at the amount of people that decided to sponsor me. I’m not a good salesperson; I don’t like promoting myself. But people were so supportive. Even Nigel sponsored me. He said, ‘You’ll do it, you’ll be fine.’”

But as the date of the abseil approached, Nigel declined rapidly. “That last week of November, when he got really weak, I actually said to him, ‘Nigel, you still better be here when I’m doing this abseil.’ I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be long.”

The day before the abseil, she visited Nigel in his room. “He said to me, ‘Oh, you’re doing the abseil tomorrow,’ and I said yes, and he drifted back to sleep.” However, just as Vida was going to leave, Nigel became distressed, trying to tell her something she couldn’t understand. “Twice he said the same sort of words, but I just couldn’t fathom it,” she says. Only later, at home, did the realisation hit her. “He was trying to say to me, I’m dying.”

The next morning, Vida stood at the edge of the gorge. She had asked the team not to call her if anything happened until after she had completed the abseil. She went over the edge, fighting her fears, and made it all the way down. “I came back completely emotional because I didn’t think I’d be able to do it,” she says. Vida raised over £1,700.

When she returned to the hospice, Nigel managed to say, ‘Well done.’ She printed off photos of herself and pinned them to his wall so he could see what she had done.

The following morning, Vida went to see him.

Vida spent the morning talking to him – telling him everything she needed to say, including her regret for not realising what he’d been trying to tell her two days earlier. “And then his breathing became more shallow.”

At around noon, the rain that had been falling all morning cleared, and sunlight filled the patio doors.

“And then,” Vida remembers, “This robin suddenly appeared. And I said, ‘Nigel, I think your mum’s come to get you.” A moment later, Nigel took his last breath, and the robin flew away.

“We all had goosebumps,” Vida says. She never saw the robin again. That evening, driving home, the sky was a fierce, brilliant red. “Nigel absolutely adored sunsets,” she says. “It felt… spiritual.”

The 15 months from Nigel’s diagnosis to his death had been extremely hard. “It was a bit of a rollercoaster, but we tried to make as much of it as we could.”

But through the end, St Margaret’s became their rock. “They were amazing,” she says. “I couldn’t have wished for better care. I could go home and get some sleep knowing that he was being cared for 24/7.” Nurses encouraged her to call anytime, even at midnight. “They would say to me, ‘We don’t want you to be in tears at home on your own. Just ring us.’”

After Nigel died, Vida was then supported by the St Margaret’s Bereavement Team. For a few months, she had weekly calls. “One week I’d be in tears and completely hopeless, and another week we’d just chat,” she says. “They were so supportive.”

Slowly, Vida has begun to rebuild. She stays in touch with some of the nurses who cared for Nigel. She has pledged a gift to St Margaret’s in her Will and is now considering volunteering herself.

Her love for Nigel will always remain. “He was the best thing that ever happened to me,” she says. “I really miss him. I miss the companionship, the silly day-to-day stuff.”

But as she navigates life without him, Vida holds close not only Nigel’s gentleness and that final sunset, but also the care that surrounded them both.