The support on the unit kept me going really, because without it, I would have struggled.
“I call it the caravan – it gives the impression of one when you’re in it. Looking up at the blue sky, it’s quite pleasant. I’ve always called it that right from the beginning. Everyone just laughs at me!” recalls 75-year-old retiree Ann, as she fondly looks back on her time on the unit.
In 2022, she discovered she had rectal cancer and underwent five sessions of radiotherapy at St James in Leeds, followed by six cycles of chemo at Airedale Hospital.
She’d seen flyers promoting the unit dotted around the hospital, but assumed it was a service solely for rural communities. “I didn’t realise there was a unit based at the hospital, until one of the nurses said, ‘can you come onto the mobile unit?’ for my second round of chemo. It’s a smaller version of the hospital which is lovely. From then on, I had the rest of my chemo on there.”
It was around the same time that she developed a blood clot from her PICC line.
She recollects: “I was so glad I was on the unit; it was just such a relief. I had to start injecting myself with anticoagulants which went on for four months. At the time it was quite traumatic for me. The ‘caravan’ [mobile unit] was the place where I felt most secure. This feeling stayed with me all the way through to the end of my treatment.”
Ann’s chemo infusion took four hours each time, and combined with the often lengthy wait at the hospital, this was “a long time where you’re not feeling brilliant. I’d rather be sitting at home feeling rough rather than in the hospital.”
Asked to sum up her experience on the unit, she simply says:
Calm. It was so efficient and easy, so quiet; for me that was quite important. You could hear what the nurse was saying and the staff were just attending to you rather than being called away. Hospital is a constant barrage of noise and questions; it’s non-stop, which I don’t think is conducive to trying to make a patient feel calm.
She continues: “I did feel my stress levels going down because I knew what to expect when I went to the unit. It sounds wrong, but I actually enjoyed it! I knew most of the staff; they get to know you so well. They’ve got more time to talk to you. You feel like a proper person and not just a patient or a number. I think that was very, very important.” She readily admits that the care she received at both the unit and the hospital was “excellent”, but the ward staff are at the mercy of an overloaded system.
“Cancer is not just about having treatment. It’s very much a mental thing too and the more you can cope and feel OK, that is so important. The support on the unit kept me going really, because without it, I would have struggled. I don’t know how other patients (without access to it) cope.
“There were times when I could have just collapsed, I didn’t want to do anything and I could barely move. I didn’t even know why I was here; it was that bad. I knew I could say ‘I’m feeling absolutely terrible today’ and the nurses would have the time to say, ‘Come on, let’s talk it through’, while they were still working on you. Or one of the other nurses would ask if I wanted a drink or a chocolate biscuit. Little things like this meant such a lot. The driver who I got to know really well was also fantastic.”
Ann hails the merits of not having to worry about parking when there are so many other things to think about – just one of the many other benefits she found. “I mean, parking in most hospitals is a nightmare, isn’t it? I only live about 10 minutes away from the hospital in Silverton, so the travelling, thank goodness, wasn’t an issue for me. It was more the convenience of parking right next to the unit.”
She also put the extra waiting time she’d saved to invaluable use elsewhere: “I found that walking every day, just to get outside even if just for 10 minutes, was my mental therapy. It was just lovely to have that spare time. It also helped my husband too, because you know they’re watching you going through hell.”
She is beyond grateful for the positive impact her unit-based care has also had on her loved ones: “My husband said when I was on the caravan, he knew I was OK. I don’t think the carer is considered very often and at the end of the day, I couldn’t have done it without him. The unit supported him as much as it did me because it relieved his stress levels, knowing where I was and how long things would take. I think waiting tends to be far worse for others rather than the patient who is getting on with treatment.”
Taking stock of what a difference the unit has made to her, Ann summarises: “Unless you’ve experienced it first hand, no one can ever understand what the unit means. I think it’s an absolute credit to every single person involved in it. It really does hit home that what they’re doing is so important and more people need to benefit from it.
The support on the unit kept me going really, because without it, I would have struggled.
“I call it the caravan – it gives the impression of one when you’re in it. Looking up at the blue sky, it’s quite pleasant. I’ve always called it that right from the beginning. Everyone just laughs at me!” recalls 75-year-old retiree Ann, as she fondly looks back on her time on the unit.
In 2022, she discovered she had rectal cancer and underwent five sessions of radiotherapy at St James in Leeds, followed by six cycles of chemo at Airedale Hospital.
She’d seen flyers promoting the unit dotted around the hospital, but assumed it was a service solely for rural communities. “I didn’t realise there was a unit based at the hospital, until one of the nurses said, ‘can you come onto the mobile unit?’ for my second round of chemo. It’s a smaller version of the hospital which is lovely. From then on, I had the rest of my chemo on there.”
It was around the same time that she developed a blood clot from her PICC line.
She recollects: “I was so glad I was on the unit; it was just such a relief. I had to start injecting myself with anticoagulants which went on for four months. At the time it was quite traumatic for me. The ‘caravan’ [mobile unit] was the place where I felt most secure. This feeling stayed with me all the way through to the end of my treatment.”
Ann’s chemo infusion took four hours each time, and combined with the often lengthy wait at the hospital, this was “a long time where you’re not feeling brilliant. I’d rather be sitting at home feeling rough rather than in the hospital.”
Asked to sum up her experience on the unit, she simply says:
Calm. It was so efficient and easy, so quiet; for me that was quite important. You could hear what the nurse was saying and the staff were just attending to you rather than being called away. Hospital is a constant barrage of noise and questions; it’s non-stop, which I don’t think is conducive to trying to make a patient feel calm.
She continues: “I did feel my stress levels going down because I knew what to expect when I went to the unit. It sound wrong, but I actually enjoyed it! I knew most of the staff; they get to know you so well. They’ve got more time to talk to you. You feel like a proper person and not just a patient or a number. I think that was very, very important.” She readily admits that the care she received at both the unit and the hospital was “excellent”, but the ward staff are at the mercy of an overloaded system.
“Cancer is not just about having treatment. It’s very much a mental thing too and the more you can cope and feel OK, that is so important. The support on the unit kept me going really, because without it, I would have struggled. I don’t know how other patients (without access to it) cope.
“There were times when I could have just collapsed, I didn’t want to do anything and I could barely move. I didn’t even know why I was here; it was that bad. I knew I could say ‘I’m feeling absolutely terrible today’ and the nurses would have the time to say, ‘Come on, let’s talk it through’, while they were still working on you. Or one of the other nurses would ask if I wanted a drink or a chocolate biscuit. Little things like this meant such a lot. The driver who I got to know really well was also fantastic.”
Ann hails the merits of not having to worry about parking when there are so many other things to think about – just one of the many other benefits she found. “I mean, parking in most hospitals is a nightmare, isn’t it? I only live about 10 minutes away from the hospital in Silverton, so the travelling, thank goodness, wasn’t an issue for me. It was more the convenience of parking right next to the unit.”
She also put the extra waiting time she’d saved to invaluable use elsewhere: “I found that walking every day, just to get outside even if just for 10 minutes, was my mental therapy. It was just lovely to have that spare time. It also helped my husband too, because you know they’re watching you going through hell.”
She is beyond grateful for the positive impact her unit-based care has also had on her loved ones: “My husband said when I was on the caravan, he knew I was OK. I don’t think the carer is considered very often and at the end of the day, I couldn’t have done it without him. The unit supported him as much as it did me because it relieved his stress levels, knowing where I was and how long things would take. I think waiting tends to be far worse for others rather than the patient who is getting on with treatment.”
Taking stock of what a difference the unit has made to her, Ann summarises: “Unless you’ve experienced it first hand, no one can ever understand what the unit means. I think it’s an absolute credit to every single person involved in it. It really does hit home that what they’re doing is so important and more people need to benefit from it.
