One thing that I was considering about a move to Canada was what to do when the inevitable happens and someone in the family gets ill or dies. I was of the opinion that I wouldn’t come back for funerals. I don’t know why I thought this, I don’t really mind funerals. Being from an Irish background funerals are generally celebrations of a life lived rather than morose affairs. Both my Mum and Dad have passed one now and my family all seem to be in good health.

But there I was making policy decisions when suddenly I get a call from my sister saying my brother had been taken into hospital. He has severe acute pancreatitis and was seriously ill. They gave him a 70% chance of living, but of course that means a 30% chance of dying. This was completely out of the blue, he’d been playing golf the day before. On Sunday I get on my scooter and in four hours I’m in Chester to see him. He’s in the High Dependency Unit but might get moved to an Intensive Care ward if he doesn’t improve. He would be moved to The Royal in Liverpool as they are the regional centre for Pancreas related illness, but they have no beds. I’m impressed by the care and treatment he’s getting in Chester but know he would be better off in Liverpool as that is the specialist unit for his condition. He looks as ill as he is, and has every kind of tube and monitor imaginable. Every time I go in he’s got more equipment around his bed. I’m really glad I can get to see him so quickly and know that if I was in Canada I would feel just the same and want to get there ASAP. So much for policy, emotion takes over when it happens for real and that’s when you know what you really want to do. The best laid plans of mice and men…

SM