In Memoriam: Judy's Death



Judy with Andrew and Phillip and their parents at Paihia

It was at this stage that we realised that Judy’s tumour was too deep for an operation. There had been the radiotherapy, but little change as a result. Others in the ward had had operations to remove their tumours, or were waiting confidently for one. Judy kept hoping for a while.

 

One day we were sitting in the ward discussing this when Judy asked, “Dad, I’m dying aren’t I?” I didn’t reply immediately, but I knew I could not fudge the issue, so I said: ”Yes, darling, I’m afraid you are, but we are all going to stay with you all the time.” Those were the most difficult words I ever had to say to anyone.

 Here is Judy again with her three cousins and their Dad, at their Pakuranga home

In late October she went into hospital for the last time. Olly was home by then, and Audrey came up from Dunedin, as she had done time and time again, and between the three of us we sat with her round the clock.

 

She lost the power of speech, but could still write messages for a few days. I clearly remember the morning we asked her a question and she started writing the answer, and then the mark tailed off into a single line; her fingers would no longer write what she wanted them to. That was the last time we ever had any communication from her, apart from looking deep into each other’s eyes.

 

On 24 November, three days before her fourteenth birthday, Judy began to spasm about 9 in the morning. Her whole body shook and convulsed uncontrollably. I had no idea what to do, and called for the nurses or doctors to come and help. The surgeon came and told me, “Mr Gaze, we do not know what is happening to Judy.  She should have died a month ago, but her heart is just so strong.”

 

The spasms quietened later in the day, and we continued to sit beside her. Olly took over the watch in the evening and was there just before midnight when Judy finally gave up the fight.