A letter to… the friends who stood by us
You know who you are...
They say you don’t know who your friends are until you’re in trouble… And boy, do me and my husband Neil, 38, know just how true that is?! Back in 2000, we had a huge group of pals. Car crazy, there were about 40 of us petrol heads who’d meet regularly for drinks or trips to car shows. I remember you guys posing along with me and Neil for wacky photos. Back then, in our 20s, we really didn’t have a care in the world.
Neil was a bit of a leader, had even set up a car club for the gang.
We had such a laugh each summer, going on camping trips and checking out the latest motor shows.
Our merry band felt like such a tight-knit group. Nothing could ever break us. Then in 2008, Neil started getting migraines, struggled to stand up. We went back and forth between doctors, desperate to find out the cause. Not everyone in the group knew about it, but a few of you did. You’d keep asking if Neil’s headaches were getting better.
‘Hopefully soon,’ Neil would answer, smiling bravely.
But in December 2010 we got some devastating news. Neil had multiple sclerosis. ‘You need to start treatment immediately, or you could end up in a wheelchair,’ docs warned.
Frightened and in shock, we didn’t know how to react.
And when we told the gang, it seemed lots of them didn’t know how to react either.
But you guys were sympathetic, cut us some slack if we were a bit down as Neil’s treatment plan started in June 2011.
You understood that the pair of us were going through hell. Neil needed a gruelling three-hour intravenous infusion of medication monthly.
But the psychological impact on him was far worse.
‘If I’m going to end up in a wheelchair, we have to seize life now,’ Neil said.
So we used all our savings to go on far-flung holidays to America, went on cruises.
It meant that we didn’t get to see the gang as much.
But you guys, and you know who you are, never lost touch, would check to see how Neil was. Then, in 2012, we got married. By now, though, most of the group had drifted and, I’ll be honest, that really hurt. But you core of four amazing people, were with us all the way and at our wedding. It wasn’t until December 2014, that you really showed what incredible friends you are.
Neil had a bad reaction to drugs, and developed a brain infection, PML (progressive multifocal leukoencephalopathy). He was having seizures, had to be put in a coma for a week.
I was absolutely terrified. Neil was my world.
‘You can’t leave me,’ I wept. When I reached out, you were there in a flash, visiting hospital, sitting with me.
‘Whatever you need,’ you’d all reassure me.
Something that can trip off the tongue so easily.
But I knew that you meant it.
When Neil finally came round, he’d lost his vision, couldn’t speak, eat, drink, walk or use his hand. He had to relearn how to do everything.
The MS Society was a huge help during his recovery.
In April 2015, Neil was finally allowed to come home.
Sadly, his vision never recovered, and he’s lost the use of his right arm and hand.
But, thankfully, his silly humour has remained intact.
As you guys know... Because you still come and hang out, chatting and watching telly.
And when you can’t make it, you’ll send a text.
Simple acts that mean the world to us.
We don’t have a huge gang now, but we have a small group of amazing friends that I wouldn’t change for the world.