Love in the Hardest Place: My 50th at Lion Ward
- dellanienash9
- Nov 28
- 3 min read
Updated: Nov 29
Thursday 27th November — My 50th Birthday —
Fifty.
I never imagined I’d be spending this milestone birthday in a hospital cubicle, listening to beeping monitors and watching my brave girl fight her way through ICANS recovery. And yet… somehow, despite the heaviness, my heart feels wrapped in the biggest, gentlest wave of love.
To everyone who messaged, posted, commented, sent photos, videos — truly, thank you. I read them all while sitting beside Maya, and you have no idea how much they lifted me. I didn’t realise how much I needed that love until it poured in.
This morning was intense. Maya kept the ward busy — desaturations, wobbly blood pressure, endless checks from nurses, doctors, the Oncology and Research Teams, Physio/OT. Spread A Smile Charity came to sing soothing tunes to Maya. And even Clara from the Hospital School popped by to read to her. Small moments of calm stitched between the chaos.
And then in the afternoon, (my husband) Terry arrived from Kent to see me for my birthday. That’s when the tiniest glimmers of improvement began. Maya opened her eyes a bit more, fighting through that heavy, treatment-induced haze she’s been under. I washed her hair, gave her her daily full bed bath, moisturised her long frail limbs.
In the 6:15pm video, while I was doing passive arm exercises, it genuinely looked like she was trying to sing along to George Michael’s “Last Christmas” (Maya loves this song whatever time of the year!).
Later, around 8:15pm, she fought even harder — eyes tracking ever so slightly toward Terry’s voice.
Subtle, fragile progress… but it’s progress.
And in the middle of all this, something beautiful has been forming here on Lion Ward.
My neighbours — the mums in cubicles 2, 3, and 4 — are all newly thrown into this cancer nightmare. Their small children have just been diagnosed (lymphoma, leukaemia, liver cancer). They’re still in shock, disbelief, still trying to understand the language of oncology that I’ve sadly come to know too well (we’ve been in the game for nearly nine years!!!) And yet these women… these mothers… have wrapped around me like a little tribe. They told me that meeting me and talking with me gave them a sense of hope — something they’re learning to hold onto in this terrifying new world. They said I bring a positivity and lightness they desperately need right now, and hearing that meant more than they know.
They surprised me with birthday cards, little presents, and even a small cake. In the middle of their own heartbreak and fear, they still found the space to show me love.
It was humbling.
Softening.
Human.
I don’t think they even realise how much strength they gave me just by being here, side by side, surviving the same war.
I feel so grateful for the Play Team and Research Oncology Team too — more gifts, more kindness — it all made today feel less like a birthday spent in hospital, and more like a day held by people who truly care.
And because a few wonderful people are visiting today (Friday 28th November) and sitting with Maya, Terry and I will try to take a tiny moment outside the hospital walls — a quick gym session, a swim in the pool, and a simple meal at an Italian restaurant.
Nothing glamorous.
Just breathing different air for an hour.
Just remembering we’re still human.
We’ll celebrate properly when this ICANS storm finally passes.
Maya’s story is one of strength, stubbornness, and a heart that keeps beating through the unimaginable. Sharing her journey matters.
And your love — every message, every prayer, every bit of support — is helping push her forward. She feels it. We feel it. And it is absolutely willing her on.
Thank you for being our tribe — near, far, and here in Lion Ward.
Thank you for holding us up.
Thank you for loving Maya so fiercely.
More updates soon, and please share Maya’s auction today or please put your bids if you like any of the prizes!
Love from,
Dellanie
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