A Bright Spot in the Darkness: Tash’s Story
Tash was admitted to Guy’s hospital for life-saving throat cancer surgery which left her without her voice box. Tash’s daughter, Maya, explained how a handful of visits to Guy’s MediCinema meant the world to their family when Tash was feeling vulnerable and isolated.
This is Tash’s story told by Maya.
When mum woke up from her operation, the cancer was gone, but so was her ability to speak. For a month, hospital was her entire world. And as anyone who has spent time there knows, it can be a lonely, isolating place, even more so when you’ve had your voice box removed and lost your voice. Mum was also having to adapt to a whole new way of breathing, which frankly made her miserable and she was finding life in hospital very difficult.
A glimmer of joy appeared one month in, when she was well enough to attend Guy’s MediCinema. The first film she saw was “The Housemaid”. She was alone that evening, but a wonderfully chatty volunteer took her from her bed to the cinema and kept her company. Mum later expressed that it felt like going to the movies with a friend, not just being a hospital patient moved from A to B.
It took real courage for mum to accept the cinema invitation. Leaving the safety of the ward when you breathe differently and can't call for help is frightening
Maya, Tash's dughter
But she wasn’t alone, with a specialist nurse chaperone from her ward, and the trained MediCinema nurses on hand too, Mum felt comfortable and safe. She could stop being a cancer patient for two hours and just be an audience member. It pepped her up, in a way that no medicine could.
Seeing the change in mum after that first visit to the MediCinema was amazing. My brother Johnny, sister Holly, dad and I were visiting her in hospital every day, trying to keep her spirits up, but the ward is a difficult place for a family to just be together.
Mum later had a “bright idea.” She decided she was going to treat us to a film at the MediCinema. She “took us out for the day” to see “Song Sung Blue”.
Going to watch the film, as a family or four, felt like a miracle. I can’t say enough good things about it, I’ve told so many people about it. We weren't sitting around a hospital bed; we were movie fans again.
Inside the cinema I remember looking around and seeing how seamlessly the nurses attended to patients, helping them in the dark, so that the magic wasn’t broken. It felt so comfortable, so professional, and so normal.
Mum is at home now, she has healed, is currently cancer free, she is mouthing the words she’d like to say but has not yet found her voice. She furiously writes on her whiteboard as she does have a lot to tell us.
When I asked her what she’d like to say to someone that doesn’t know much about or is thinking about supporting MediCinema, she didn’t hesitate, she said this:
Hospital can be frightening, upsetting and painful. It can also be boring, repetitive and dull. The cinema was a lovely bright spot in the day and gave us something to talk about that wasn’t about meds, operations or pain
Tash, patient
