Two days after Colin Brett held his mum’s hand on her hospice bed and she confessed to him her fear of dying, her aggressive cancer cruelly robbed her of the power of speech.
When that brutal decline left her unable to articulate to her son what scared her most about her own passing, it left Colin tormented about the psychological journey his mum, Dorothy, was facing entirely alone – until her broken body was physically unable to travel any further.
Now, 10 months after Dot died at home at the age of 80 with her closest family by her bedside, 50-year-old dad-of-one Colin is emulating the isolation of his mum’s psychological battle by embarking on a lone, gruelling journey of his own in support of Marie Curie – the charity that gave to her, and those who loved her, such unconditional care.
Colin is set to cycle, in just nine and a half days, 1243 miles around Scotland’s coast to experience first-hand, in the only way he knows how, the lonely mental health battle his mum endured with terminal illness. Like Dot in her final days, he’ll be unassisted when he mounts the saddle to set out on that mentally challenging, mammoth path, with no-one and nothing to accompany him – not even music.
And, like his beloved mum, who was good humoured to the very end, he fully expects to be complaining in silence of a very sore backside. Around four years ago, West Lothian gran-of-five Dot was diagnosed with breast cancer. Although she had surgery, her hormonal cancer went on to invade the rest of her body.
In March last year, Dot, her husband Jackie and the rest of the family were devastated to learn that it had ravaged her liver and was growing rapidly in her bowels. Scans revealed a large tumour, which could be seen protruding from her stomach. Now virtually house-bound, Dot was fitted with a stoma and told her cancer was terminal.
“One wish mum had was to remain in her house for as long as physically possible,” explained son, Colin, who is a Scottish Rugby match official development manager. “As long as she was capable of functioning as a person, she wanted to remain in the house so family could come and visit. That’s when Marie Curie really came to the forefront and started supporting my mum in her house.
“Two nurses attended daily. One, who was from Troon and is now retired, was brilliant – just superb. I want to say her name was Norma. She gave us all the information and more. She explained to all the family and my mum about the journey ahead.
“Mum was very matter-of-fact and the nurse gave the information to my mum in the same manner. She identified the character my mum was, and gave that back. We were very appreciative of that.
“Mum only ever worried about others. Even when she was in hospital getting the stoma bag fitted, she’d always say: ‘Oh, look at that poor soul next to me,’ even though she was in the same boat. That’s just who she was – and that’s what I loved about her.”
When Dot’s concoction of drugs became administered through a driver, Colin was struck by the reality of the cost of such volumes of medication and equipment on Marie Curie, and on the NHS.
Without the charity’s support, Colin knows his family would have struggled to cope with the demands of delivering 24-hour care, the physical and emotional stress on his dad, the pressure on his own job and that of his sister, Carol Mitchell, and the associated financial hardship and personal strains.
After nine weeks of support from Marie Curie, whose trusted nurses made Dot’s journey dignified and comfortable, Colin’s mum was taken to Tippethill Hospice in Armadale. While there, Dot spoke about her fear of dying – a fear she herself couldn’t understand enough to explain.
Said Colin: “I asked her: ‘Are you scared that you’re leaving something behind? Are you scared Dad’s going to be left on his own? Are you scared about your family?’ She didn’t know.
“When my mum lost her voice, she couldn’t even tell us. That was the hard part. I felt quite helpless because I wasn’t able to alleviate those fears. I tried to do a little reading on it just to try and understand. This moment of mortality, when you now know the end is very near, how do people cope with that?
“What could I say to my mum when she’s on her own, in those times when she was lying in her bed with her own thoughts?
“It sounds very simplistic but I was very aware that not only is it a physical journey, it’s also a very psychological journey. It’s a very lonely journey. As much as you have all these people attending to your needs, you are still left at times on your own, with your own thoughts, and you are quite fearful of these moments.”
It was that need to understand how his mum felt in her mental solitude that shaped what was to become Colin’s cycling challenge.
He continued: “This sounds terrible, but when Mum was in bed, she’d be sitting or lying on bedsores. Before she lost her voice, she’d be saying: ‘Oh, my backside’s killing me.’ I know how that feels when you’re sitting, cycling away. Your backside hurts.”
In his quest to find the words to say to a loved one who’s nearing the end-of-life with their own thoughts, Colin decided to replicate the lonely, psychological challenges his mum faced alongside her body’s physical battle.
Like most families, his perception of cancer was that of a physical illness. Now enlightened to its psychological aspects, Colin wants to demonstrate to other relatives the bits they don’t see, when their loved one is lying alone, grappling with their own thoughts.
“Maybe Marie Curie would look at potentially providing support to alleviate these fears that people have,” suggested Colin, who says he was touched and inspired by the charity, and felt privileged to observe its nurses’ “amazing work.”
“The way they sort the physical aspect out is just superb. But is there mental wellbeing support that can help alleviate people’s fears when they are faced with this journey of cancer, of terminal illness?”
In order to help facilitate that, Livingston Cycling Club member Colin will set out on Friday, May 26, from his home in East Calder to cycle to Biggar, through Moffat and then to Dumfries where he’ll spend the night.
Then, it’s off to Stranraer and up the west coast to Ayr. The following morning, he’ll saddle up for Inveraray and, on day three, it’s off to Strathcarron.
Then, he’ll tackle the Applecross Passes – the steepest climb in Britain – before reaching Ullapool. From Bettyhill on the north coast, he heads to Dornoch, and then along the Moray coast to just south of Aberdeen.
The final stretch of his epic cycle in loving memory of Dorothy – whom Colin describes as “our rock, our family heart, our mum” – will take him from Arbroath back to East Calder in West Lothian.
“The idea is to have no support vehicle beside me, so I am trying to emulate the journey as much as I possibly can,” said Colin, who is personally picking up the cost of his accommodation along the route.
“I’m going to post a package every day to the B&Bs that I’m going to stay in around the country, so when I arrive I’ve got fresh clothes to wear for the next day. The biggest challenge will be the eating. I reckon I’m going to need about 8,000 calories a day.”
Wearing a Marie Curie cycling top, Colin hopes to attract donations from customers at the cafes at which he’ll stop en route.
Spurring him on mentally will be the memory of his mum, Dot, who volunteered at St John’s Hospital neonatal ward and at charity shops. She and husband Jackie loved to dance – and many of their friends on the dance circuit were among nearly 190 people who attended her funeral.
Twelve weeks after the family said goodbye to Dot, grieving Jackie was diagnosed with lung cancer and was given 18 months to live. Continued Colin: “He wasn’t able to go through chemo because he has vascular issues, so I’ve got another journey to begin fairly soon.
“My dad’s seen my mum’s journey, and I think he appreciates that it’s certainly not going to be easy, but he’s not at that stage yet. He’s just getting on with life, which is nice.
“My mum was a little person, but she didn’t suffer fools. I was told a few times: ‘Oh, toughen up, son’ – something I’ll probably hear her voice saying while I’m cycling. Through the cycle, I’m sure I’ll have a few moments where I’ll chat away with her.She was very matter-of-fact, but also quite gentle. I owe a lot to my mum in terms of my resilience. She’s still a part of my life.”
Through his justgiving page, Colin is a third of the way to achieving his target of raising £8000 for Marie Curie. To donate, visit www.justgiving.com/fundraising/Colin-Brett2
Don't miss the latest news from around Scotland and beyond - Sign up to our daily newsletter here .
