John Crane - My Experience of Saint Francis Hospice

I was born and brought up in Romford, and I still live here with my wife Pearl. We’ve been married for 52 years now. We’re still thoughtful to each other – we never forget birthdays, Christmas or Valentine’s Day. Family means everything to me. We’ve got two children and four grandchildren, and I consider myself very lucky to have seen them grow up. 

I had a great childhood. One of my favourite memories is spending the holidays on my grandparents’ farm in Hampshire. They were happy times. 

I followed in my dad’s footsteps into the motor trade. My father was a director of a car firm, and that’s where I started. I loved it. I was meeting new people all day long and I’ve got so many great memories from those years. I worked in the business for 45 years until I retired in 2015.

Pearl and I got married in 1974 at St Edward the Confessor Church in Romford Market. I can still picture it clearly now – all the market traders cheering and shouting as we came out of the church. It was a special day. 

I’ve always been active and in good health, so when things started to change, I didn’t really think much of it at first. Looking back now, I realise there were signs, but I hadn’t recognised them. It was only when Pearl and our daughter Sam noticed a change in the way I was walking that I went to see a doctor. 

I was diagnosed with motor neurone disease at 71. That diagnosis came as a shock, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. I like to think I’m a positive person – I take each day as it comes and don’t dwell on things too much. 

Everyone’s experience of MND is different. In my case, it’s mainly affected my mobility. I don’t have much strength in my legs or my arms now. Pearl and I used to enjoy going shopping together, going out for meals and going to musicals in London, but we can’t really do that anymore. I used to love fishing and gardening, but I can’t bend down now. 

If I fall over, I have to rely on other people to pick me up, and I do find that embarrassing. That’s one of the harder things to accept.

When I was first told about Saint Francis Hospice, I’ll be honest, I didn’t like the idea of going. I didn’t want to sit in a group with people who were further along than me – I felt I was dealing with things in my own way. 

But I was persuaded to give it a try, and I haven’t looked back since. 

I’ve been going to the hospice for about three years now. The staff are so kind and dedicated – nothing is ever too much trouble. I’ve been to the Wednesday Connections Group, the HOPE group, the keep fit sessions, and I still attend the Neuro Group. 

It’s such a wonderful place and such an important part of the local community. And we always have such a laugh in the exercise group.

If you’re stuck at home and can’t get out, somewhere like the hospice is so important. It gives you somewhere to go where you feel safe and cared for. You meet other people, have a chat and actually enjoy yourself. I always say the hospice makes the bubble bigger – your world doesn’t feel so small. 

It’s not just me who benefits either. Pearl goes to a carers’ group where she can meet other people and get support. That’s really important too.

The hospice is also great for information. We’ve had people come in to talk to us – dieticians and others – and you pick up things that really help day to day. 

We’ve had some lovely experiences as well. We’ve been on trips on the Jumbulance – one to Southend and another to see the Christmas lights in London. Things like that mean a lot. 

We’re so grateful for everything the hospice has done for us. Later this year, we’re planning to hold a coffee and cake morning to raise some money and give something back. 

When I think about my life, I do feel lucky. I was diagnosed at 71 and I’m now 75. I’ve had my life – I’ve been married, had children and have grandchildren.

When I hear stories like Rob Burrow’s, leaving behind a young family, it really puts things into perspective. If I hadn’t been diagnosed, I don’t think I’d reflect on my life in the same way. 

I look at things differently now, and I’m grateful for everything I’ve had.