"I saw the person, not the illness”

“I saw the person, not the illness”

On his first date with Gill Stewart, Andrew Krelle told her he had pulmonary hypertension. Far from putting her off, the pair enjoyed over 11 years of happiness together – leaving Gill with precious memories that have helped her through the grief of losing him.

Imet Andrew on a dating site back in 2009 and our first date was at a country pub. I liked him straight away; he was funny, kind, and I felt safe with him.

That first time we met, he told me he had pulmonary hypertension and like so many people I’ve come across since, I had no idea what it was.

He told me he had congenital heart disease and had been diagnosed with PH for four years. He explained he was in and out of hospital quite a lot, but it didn’t bother me at all. I saw the person, not the illness. We met up a couple of days later and it just went from there.

We realised we lived around the corner from each other, and in those early days Andrew would pick me up at 6am every day to take me to work. He was definitely trying to impress me!

Andrew loved pottering about his garden and sitting on his bench chatting to the neighbours. He was a very happy, chatty man who got on with everyone and he made lots of friends during his hospital stays.

He loved cooking and he would always cook me something nice when I got in from work. We didn’t move in together because it would have affected Andrew’s benefits, but we would see each other every day.

Andrew couldn’t walk far without getting breathless, so we didn’t go out much, but we were happy living our lives the way we were.

We’d potter in the garden together, go to garden centres, and have days out to places like the Lake District.

We couldn’t go abroad but we had holidays in this country which we really enjoyed.

We also went out for meals a lot because Andrew could drive there and back. He loved his car, and it was always immaculate. I used to clean it for him as he found it too difficult, and I did lots of other things for him too, but not because I had to. I did them because I wanted to.

I think he felt guilty that he had this illness, and I was healthy, and he thought he was stopping me from doing things. Sometimes things weren’t easy of course, but it was where I wanted to be. And I didn’t ever class myself as his carer. I was his partner, and he was mine.

Towards the end of last year, Andrew’s illness had progressed to a point where nothing more could be done for him.

He died at home, which is what he wanted. We had support from district nurses and our local hospice, who came in to visit each day, but I did a lot of the care myself too - because I wanted to and because of the love I felt for him. Andrew passed away peacefully, with me holding his hand."

Andrew’s illness did stop us doing some things, but we made the most of the time that we had, and we took every day as it came.

Some of the gifts given to Gill by her family, to help her with her memories of Andrew

Navigating my grief

"I feel I’m in a better place than I was, but my life feels empty without Andrew.

My family are all really close by, and I live with my parents, so I’ve got a good support network which makes a difference.

My employer arranged counselling for me which has helped me a great deal. My counsellor suggested I make a scrapbook of all the pictures I have from our time together. It took me a few months to be able to do it, because looking at them was so upsetting at first, but I have found it helpful. I started right from when we first met and as well as photos, I’ve made notes about where we were and what we were doing that day, so it’s like a story of our life together.

My family gave me some gifts at Christmas – including a memory box, a calendar with our photos, and a journal of loss and remembrance, and I have found great comfort from them.

When I first opened the journal, I found it very sad, but now I write all sorts in there. I’ve written about the last conversation we had, and about different scenarios. Whatever I’m feeling, I can put it down on paper and go back and read it if I want to.

I go to the cemetery twice a week and talk to Andrew. I kiss the picture on his headstone and tell him what I’ve been up to. And I have a photo of him by my bed, which I always say good morning and good night to.

Simply talking about him helps, and I know he’d be pleased to see this in Emphasis. Andrew used to call me his little diamond and tell me he’d be lost without me. But now it’s me, lost without him. I’m just so glad we had 11-and-a-half years together and made each other so happy.