Everyone who knew him described Rich’ as the kindest, most
gentle and generous person you could ever wish to meet. Rich’ never complained
about his condition and lived life to the full.
I married my husband in 2005 and Rich’ and his girlfriend at
that time were sworn to secrecy and the date was arranged for when they would
return from their holiday in Egypt. Rich’ was so proud that day as at long last
he could, legally, make Pete promise to look after me. It was always a joke
between the two of them that Rich’ had looked after me for years and now it was
Pete’s turn. They have a fantastic relationship and I count myself very very
lucky that they get on so well.
Even on that last night, when we had taken Rich’ to hospital,
we still managed to talk and laugh with each other. Rich’ was in complete heart
block when he was eventually admitted and we were told that “we were in trouble”
and did I, mum, “trust a ginger shaven haired doctor who had the whitest skin
you ever did see”. The answer of course was that we trusted him with our lives
and he set to work to help Rich. Everything they did that night to help Rich’
another obstacle appeared. At first we were told that they would have to put a
permanent pacemaker in to kick-start his heart but very quickly they found an
abscess around Rich’s Aortic valve. The pacemaker would rupture the abscess and
pus would have flooded into Rich’s heart so they couldn’t go ahead with that.
Atropine did not work at all, although he had enough to bring
an elephant back on line again. The doctors and nurses that night kept us all
calm and never once did we think that the outcome would be anything else other
than Rich’s long awaited valve replacement. Rich overheard our Cardiologist
discussing with The John Radcliffe hospital that he was to be sent there and was
going to have a camera put down to see the extent of damage the infection had
done to the valve and then for his valve to be replaced. How he heard that I
will never know as I was struggling to hear all that was being said.
A specialist Cardiac paramedic crew were called to take Rich’
to the John Radcliffe. Whilst we were waiting for the red tape to be completed
we caught the look on the face of the lady paramedic. It is a look that will
haunt us forever. A look that rips you in half thinking about it. The look that
said ‘he is so young’ and you look such a nice family. She came over to chat
briefly and then excused herself and drew the curtains around us. The thoughts
that go through your head then – mine were "I’ve seen Casualty, I know what
happens when the curtains are pulled". So I left a gap in them.
At
3.15 in the morning Rich’ decided to ask what we were going to do for the rest
of the evening. He told us to do something nice or go home and get some rest. We
did explain that it was 3.15 in the morning and when he had got to Oxford we
would be looking for a room in the hospital to wait while he had his operation.
Rich’ then decided to announce to the world that he didn’t
want to go to another hospital but would if it was what was best for him.
As they were preparing to move Rich’, about 4.10am, he
suddenly spotted two tears escape from me and wanted to know why I was crying
and told me to go home because he was ‘alright’. That was Rich’ all over –
always looking out for me.
At the same time his heart rate and blood pressure plummeted
to 30 and 35/30, respectively. Everyone so calmly went about their work and
still we were not asked to leave the room. We did though and it was the only
time that night/morning that I realised things were not good and slid down the
wall feeling mentally exhausted.
My husband Pete had been keeping positive too until this
time. Just thinking, "Yes, Rich’ will get his op’ and will come through".
At 4.50am the Cardiologist and senior anaesthetist came out.
When you see them walking towards you, you know something is going badly wrong.
We
were told, “If we don’t move Rich’ he is going to die and if we move Rich’ he is
probably going to die. But there is a million to one chance that he will make it
and we are taking it”. Pete heard such a scream from me but the calmness
of the pair of them and the reassurance that he was in the best hands possible
and a team of experts were waiting for us at the Radcliffe, help calm you. All
you have to do is the journey.
We were told that the ambulance would do the hour journey
from Northampton to Oxford in 25 min’s but it would take us an hour. I was not
allowed to go with Rich’ and was told that I had to travel with Pete and make
sure that we got there safely as by this time we were exhausted. We were then
allowed to leave with the words “have a safe journey; Rich’ will be half way
there by now.”
He wasn’t. We walked out through the A&E doors and saw an
ambulance sitting there. The funniest things come out of your mouth and mine was
“Surely no-one else is going through the same as we are” then realisation struck
the pair of us that the people in the ambulance were the same ones that had been
looking after Rich’ all night. You then just stagger into the nearest door and
then realise that you can’t get in the car and drive because Rich’ hasn’t left
yet – so you stagger back past again.
The panicked voices from that ambulance when they realised
that we knew Rich’ hadn’t been moved yet was overwhelming. Of course it’s now
obvious that Rich’ had taken it badly just being moved to the ambulance. A
nurse shouted to us and ran to fetch us and told us that “Rich’ wants to say
goodbye to you and wants to see you”. We were pushed into the ambulance and
Rich’ was sitting up conscious. I kissed him and told him to sleep because he
was so tired and to be a good boy for everyone and we’d see him in an hour. Pete
did the same and then we were ushered into the family room and given very hot
sweet drinks until they knew that Rich’ was now definitely on his way and we
were allowed to leave.
It was the last time we saw Rich’ alive. We arrived at Oxford
at 6.30am; we lost Rich’ at 6.24am. We were told that he’d hung on for us for as
long as he could but lost his own fight at 6.24am.
He tried so hard to fight and was so brave. Never did he
complain that night. He knew us all the way through. And I am so thankful for
that.
We were told that we had lost Rich’ to Infective Endocarditis,
Pericarditis and an Abscess in his Myocardium.
We have nothing but praise for the Resus’ unit at Northampton
General hospital. They let us stay with Rich’ for the last 8 hours of his young
life and they are the most precious 8 hours that Pete and I will always
treasure.
How life goes on we haven’t worked out yet. The pain of
losing your only child is indescribable. No amount of well meaning “I know how
you feel” helps because you can’t without having gone through it.
We are struggling with the funny questions from people “how
are you?“ and my favourites - “are you better yet?” and “it’s not any better yet
then?”
CRY has been wonderful to us. Rich’ was one of 3 with heart
conditions to complete the CRY London Bridges Walk in July 2007. He was too ill
to walk in 2008 but next year Pete and I will be walking again, without Rich’
this time, yet also with him again.
The festive season is approaching and I think we are going to
shut the door, and other than going to see Rich at his new home, we will not be
leaving the house. Rich’ always said that it was the three of us together,
nothing else mattered, and he always made me and Pete promise to look after each
other.
We are keeping that promise Rich.
Love
Always, Mum xx
Family and friends of Richard 'Rich' Tomkins
took part in the 2010 CRY Heart of London Bridges Walk in his memory
