KEVIN Barry might not live to see out Sobell’s four-year fundraising plan.
As we sit in his ensuite room on the ward he vows to make it home from his stay at the hospice’s inpatient unit.
The 86-year-old hopes he still has life left to live, but knows that his colon cancer is lurking in the shadows waiting to claim him.
Granddad-of-two Mr Barry has only been in the hospice for a few days when I visit, but is eager to sing the staff’s praises after seeing them look after his late brother years ago.
The Bicester resident, whose wife died last year, says: "The care is very special. To be honest, they do everything for me. It’s nice to know when you pull that help button somebody is going to come and rescue you.
"They treat you as a person, not a patient. They are second-to-none."
His nurses prepared him especially for our chat with a shave and a quick change of shoes, crouched at his knees to swap his slippers for something smarter.
One, who warmly refers to him as "my sweet", takes his hand in hers as Kevin stretches his world-worn face into a smile.
The father-of-two adds: "It’s marvellous – nothing is too much trouble for them. It’s a godsend really. I am more than grateful for their care."
Like every patient here on the ward, Mr Barry contrasts to some of Sobell’s day centre patients whose illness has not yet shown itself on the outside.
But though his body seems frail, slumped in the frame of an armchair, his eyes still have a twinkle as he looks out of his window onto Southfield Golf Course.
They turn on mine as I ask him if there is anything else he would like to say before I leave.
He offers just five words in relation our fundraising pledge: "I do hope you’re successful."
KEVIN Barry might not live to see out Sobell’s four-year fundraising plan.
As we sit in his ensuite room on the ward he vows to make it home from his stay at the hospice’s inpatient unit.
The 86-year-old hopes he still has life left to live, but knows that his colon cancer is lurking in the shadows waiting to claim him.
Granddad-of-two Mr Barry has only been in the hospice for a few days when I visit, but is eager to sing the staff’s praises after seeing them look after his late brother years ago.
The Bicester resident, whose wife died last year, says: "The care is very special. To be honest, they do everything for me. It’s nice to know when you pull that help button somebody is going to come and rescue you.
"They treat you as a person, not a patient. They are second-to-none."
His nurses prepared him especially for our chat with a shave and a quick change of shoes, crouched at his knees to swap his slippers for something smarter.
One, who warmly refers to him as "my sweet", takes his hand in hers as Kevin stretches his world-worn face into a smile.
The father-of-two adds: "It’s marvellous – nothing is too much trouble for them. It’s a godsend really. I am more than grateful for their care."
Like every patient here on the ward, Mr Barry contrasts to some of Sobell’s day centre patients whose illness has not yet shown itself on the outside.
But though his body seems frail, slumped in the frame of an armchair, his eyes still have a twinkle as he looks out of his window onto Southfield Golf Course.
They turn on mine as I ask him if there is anything else he would like to say before I leave.
He offers just five words in relation our fundraising pledge: "I do hope you’re successful."
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