30October2025 Diary
I have been a paediatric intensivecare nurse in StMarys Hospital, London, for eighteen years. Over that time I learned not to weep when parents burst into the ward, not to tremble as a tiny, lifeless body is wheeled out in a black sack, and not to ask why?. I simply did my job and went home afterwards.
My own little girl, Poppy, was six. Redhaired, bright as a summer morning, she never stopped asking questions and her hugs always smelled of fresh strawberries and sunshine.
One evening my shift ran late. I tried calling home, but the line went straight to voicemail. I thought they must have gone out for a walk. I didnt get back until just after midnight.
The flat was lit. Toys were strewn across the carpet. In the kitchen a halfdrunk cup of tea sat cooling. The silence was so heavy it pressed against my ears.
MrsHawkins from downstairs met me in the hallway, her face pale.
Tom Poppy the car right outside the block the driver was drunk she
I cant recall how I got to the mortuary. I cant remember the moment I held her tiny, cold hand and whispered, Mums here, get up.
All I remember is sitting in the registrars office, the doctor sliding a stack of papers across the desk and saying:
Thomas, theres something I need to tell you. All the tests are back Poppy had acute leukaemia, a very aggressive form. You would have seen symptoms in a week or two, at most a month or two and we wouldnt have been able to save her.
He stared at the floor.
She would have suffered terribly. Constant pain, chemotherapy, endless needles, endless hospital stays you would have watched her fade away piece by piece. Instead she simply fell asleep. She never got a chance to be frightened, never got a chance to feel the pain.
I sat silent for a long while, then lifted my eyes.
So youre saying this was the kinder option?
He nodded. That was all he could do.
I gathered the paperwork, stepped out into the night, and walked the rainy streets of London. As the city lights flickered past, a grim truth settled over me, one I wanted to shout to the heavens:
Sometimes the worst thing that can happen is precisely what spares you from an even worse fate.
I buried Poppy in a white dress with a little bow, the one shed asked for for a princesss birthday.
Lesson: Grief is a cruel teacher, but it can also reveal the merciful side of fate that we would never have chosen for ourselves.
