Letter to David Bowie from a palliative care doctor

Apparently, David Bowie's son, Duncan, has broken his week of Twitter silence to post this thank you letter from a palliative care doctor.  It is extremely moving.  Made me wonder how those last moments were for Bowie, hopefully he was not alone and was feeling the love from those who were closest to him but also the love that all his fans have for him.  Do read the letter, it's worth it.

http://blogs.bmj.com/spcare/2016/01/15/a-thank-you-letter-to-david-bowie-from-a-palliative-care-doctor/

David Bowie dies of cancer

It had to happen one day and I was dreading that day - my hero (I don't use this term lightly), David Bowie died of cancer.  Bastardshitbollocksfucking cancer.  I know, we all have to die of something one day - but he was relatively young and that disease strikes again.

My cool Aunty Beryl (who also died of cancer (breast cancer), v.young, btw) gave me my first ever single record when I was 9 - Space Oddity with Velvet Goldmine and Changes on the B side for my Birthday.  I was hooked ever since.

I remember my friend's sister (who was older than me), dressing à la Bowie in tight short jumper, short, ankle-grazing flared trousers and doing her make up just like Bowie (well, that's how I remember it anyhow).  Such glamour!  I longed to be metropolitan and move in his circles instead of crossing lonely fields and walking dirt tracks in my little village.

The local disco was held in the function room of an isolated pub.  I was allowed to attend the hard rock version and when my Dad came to pick me up he was impressed by the long lines of us rockers doing the 'gribo' to Jean Genie (in our tight jeans and leathers of course).

Moving on, at 18 years old, my boyfriend went to Miami with a friend and I was so sad and missed him like hell, but he brought me back the Charles Shaar Murray book about Bowie.  How I devoured that book and learnt everything I could about my idol.  As Bowie says 'all the directions of my work have started with a book'.

And jump to a naiive country girl arriving at University in digs where she was alone and knew nobody and didn't much like most of the people on the course.  I brought David Bowie knock-off tapes in the Merrion Centre in Leeds - just thought I'd try something different.  He accompanied my loneliness, my doubts, my fears, my successes, my failures.  Through all the friendships, he was a constant.  I dyed my hair bright auburn and had it cut short to be like him and then grew it out a little in the style of 'Man Who Sold the World' David.  I listened to his music night after night in my little pink room, keeping the volume down so I didn't disturb the landlady's children in the bedroom next door.  David was my escape as I wrote letters home.  He was my outlet for the unhappiness and isolation I felt.  I bought more and more tapes and he brought me to Velvet Underground, Lou Reed, Iggy Pop, Cabaret Voltaire, Bauhaus, the Cramps, Theatre of Hate, Sixousie and the Banshees, the Sisters of Mercy etc and my favourite album ever - Another Green World by Brian Eno.  He made me see how everyone is connected and how good it was to have influence and partnerships.  He made me visit an art gallery for the first time, read alternative books, watch modern dance, dress not like everyone else, dye my hair.  He opened my eyes big time.  He opened doors for me.

Fast forward to London, the 1980s.  Time of big hair and shoulderpads and consumerism.  Living in a bedsit starting to make my way in the world.  An exciting new world, full of promise and glitz and bright lights and career progression.  Out comes 'Let's Dance' - an anthem for the 80s.  And David shooting one of his videos in Maida Vale near our friend Simon's flat.  Blonde, healthy, casually-suited, fizzing with energy, this was a David that fitted perfectly with the time.  Chameleon as ever.

And in that same period, Live Aid and his cheeky version of Dancing in the Streets with Mick.  I sported my Katherine Hamnet oversized silk T shirt with the best of them and danced along all day and then all night on Primrose Hill overlooking the fireworks.  What a great day, what a great memory.

Then divorce and Bowie's album 'Black Tie White Noise' was the anthem for my getting back on my feet and getting out there again, doing new things, meeting new people.  They say 'jump' and I jumped back into action!  One memorable day my colleague asked me to lunch in the private dining room at work where we found none other than Mr Bowie himself dining with Eduardo Paolozzi, the famous sculptor.  There were no seats left except the ones next to David Bowie, so I dared to sit next to him for a whole lunch!  He said 'hello' very politely.  I said 'hello' and we ate our food.  I wanted to scream and shout and lick his feet and tell him how much I loved him and his music.  But I didn't - he was very low key and charming to everyone.  Later the waitress stole his glass and gave it to me with his unfinished perrier water and lemon in it.  I kept that glass for years.

Memories of working on a boyfriend's cottage in the middle of a field  all day on a hot sunny summer day, decorating with the windows wide open and Bowie's greatest hits blaring out to the sheep, singing along at the top of my voice like nobody could hear me.

And jump into more recent times.  Until 2002,  I had never seen Bowie live although I had always dreamt of it.  Finally, after my move to France, the chance came and despite being several months pregnant at the time, I was excited to see him at the Zenith in Paris.  He came on in a blaze of white lights and went straight into 'Life on Mars', acoustic version.  Tears of happiness streamed down my face and I couldn't stop them.  What an amazing night.  I'm glad my boy got to hear Bowie live, even if he didn't actually see him!

And in 2005, my second son was born on David Bowie's Birthday.

And even more recent.  I spent a wonderful weekend in London with my old schoolfriends and our visit was centered around a visit to the exhibition 'David Bowie Is' at the Victoria and Albert Museum.  It was absolutely fantastic.  We stayed for hours, especially in the video room at the end of the show, we were enthralled.  It rekindled all my enthusiasm and fascination for Bowie.  We all remember our pal Barb sitting in the video room with her exhibition headphones on singing out loud to herself, we teased her so much!

I got cancer and I told my husband that when it's my time to die, I want 'Wild is the Wind' to be played at my funeral.  That's the track that moves me most with its, heartrending, passionate, sensous, melancholy.

Enjoyed the DB Is exhibition much so that I went to see the show again in Paris in the new Philharmonic Building, with my children, who were reluctant, but appreciative at the end.  The show is a very fitting tribute to an unparallelled career and to a man who has opened doors for many, who has made them see that there is something else other than the mundane and it's possible to be different and exotic.  I've been fortunate to know his music and have all these happy memories of it, he has touched my life as he's touched so many millions of lives.  I am glad to have been alive at the same time as him.  RIP David Bowie.  I am so sad you have left us all.