“It became less about fear, and more about comfort and care.”
When Dawn’s brother Cameron was diagnosed with terminal prostate cancer in August 2024, life was suddenly turned upside down.
While Cameron was in hospital in Carlisle, Dawn travelled back and forth from her home in Liverpool, determined to be by his side, “I was living in Liverpool and working full time, so travelling back and forth was exhausting.”
Alongside the heartbreak of Cameron’s cancer progressing, Dawn faced the challenge of being far from home and made the difficult decision to camp nearby for four weeks so she could be there for Cameron, whenever he needed her.
“Because the area is a gateway to the Lake District, accommodation was expensive, and I simply couldn’t afford to stay away for that length of time. Many people kindly offered me a place to stay, but I felt I needed space—to process what was happening in my own way.”
Everything changed when Cameron was admitted to the hospice in August 2025.
Dawn remembers how overwhelming those early days felt. “I was frightened, initially, accepting that the end was coming. And admittedly I didn’t know what to expect. But once we got there, it just felt so much less scary.”
When Cameron arrived at the hospice, the teams on the ward listened to Dawn, hearing how challenging it had been for her – camping and facing a long journey every day to be with her brother. Wanting to ease that burden, that same day, they checked the availability in the hospice visitors’ flat and offered Dawn a place to stay so she could be close to her brother.
Supporting families to remain together is at the heart of hospice care, and families are always given the choice to stay with their loved ones during such difficult and precious times. For Dawn, that care and understanding came exactly when she needed it most.
What followed was immediate reassurance in what had been an uncertain time.
Dawn remembers the relief she felt that first night, “it was priceless”, reflecting on those precious moments she was able to share with Cameron, “I could sit with him late into the night when he called for me. I could be beside him when he wanted to sit up, play cards, watch reruns of Star Trek, and reminisce about our lives.”
For the first time, she could stop worrying about how she would get back and forth each day, or where she would stay. She could just focus on being there with Cameron –
knowing that he was comfortable and cared for, and that if he needed her, she could be with him.
For Dawn, it wasn’t just about the medical care – it was the kindness and the time taken to truly understand Cameron. “My brother liked chocolate cake and trucks, and everybody in there knew that.”
Dawn recalls how the hospice not only cared for Cameron – but cared for her too. The flat offered more than just a place to stay, it became a place where she could rest and begin to process everything she was going through. “I remember going back one night and finding cream and moisturisers. They couldn’t have done more – they just kept giving.”
Small, thoughtful touches made all the difference. “It’s the personalised care, the little things, like the catering staff remembering that we’d had poached eggs – they took time to learn things about you.”
Dawn shared how much Cameron’s private bedroom meant to them both “it opened out onto the garden, and I could fill it with things he loved.”
Even during such a difficult time, they still found moments to laugh together. “I gave him a picture of the two of us together when we were little.” Dawn said, “And he joked about me leaving it on his bedside table.” That way, she could always be there watching over him. She remembers how much it meant for Cameron to have all his photos around him, flowers from friends, and truck magazines.
“Everyone was invested in us” Dawn shares, “they told me the nurses would look after my brother, and everyone else would look after me and my family.”
“They treated him as Cameron, and they treated me as Dawn. We weren’t patients – we were a family that needed help.”
Dawn stayed in the flat for the last two weeks of Cameron’s life. And was with Cameron in his final moments. “I put my arm around him, and my face against his. I was so thankful I could be there. He wanted me to be with him when he passed – and I couldn’t bear to think if I hadn’t been. I needed him to know I was there.”
Dawn reflects how the hospice gave them both dignity and compassion, and the time with Cameron that she wouldn’t have had otherwise. “I’ll never forget the kindness of everyone at the hospice. I wouldn’t have been able to give the farewell that Cameron needed without their support.”
Even in her grief, Dawn reflects on the experience, “we felt happy, even though Cameron was dying. We were cared for.”
After Cameron died, the team continued to support her, taking care of the practicalities at a time when everything felt overwhelming, “They did all of that for me… Calling undertakers, they did everything.” Dawn recalls, “it meant I could go to bed.”
“Because of them, my brother’s death is not something I try to forget. Instead, it is a time I remember with meaning, with closeness, and even with moments of peace. That is something truly priceless.”
Dawn carries that experience forward as she now works as a Retail Manager at her local children’s hospice, Claire House, in Liverpool. “I want to give others the opportunity to have the beautiful ending that we were so privileged to have.”
Dawn now speaks about the importance of fundraising, “Most of us don’t think about the significance of hospice care, and I would want people to think about the funding for hospices now. The smallest contribution can make a difference.”
For those who may be apprehensive about hospice care, Dawn said, “I would tell anybody: don’t be scared. There is comfort and dignity there. We were really anxious,” she says, “but we found kindness, understanding, and genuine care.”
