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Volunteer Lesley Goodayle Talks Hugs, Hosting, and Helping Out at a Hospice

“I don’t always know how people visiting ellenor are feeling, but I know how I felt when I walked through those doors – when ellenor supported me and my husband when all hope seemed lost. That’s why I love it here; and why it’s a privilege to volunteer for ellenor.”

Many of us think of ourselves as ‘people persons’ – but it’s fair to say Lesley Goodayle, a lifetime Northfleet resident and self-confessed “local girl”, takes the term to new levels.

 

In her almost 50-year career in customer service at Lloyds Bank’s Gravesend branch, for example, it was never hard to spot Lesley. Why? Because the queue she was serving – “my queue”, she calls it with a chuckle – was always the longest one. And not because Lesley was slow at serving; but simply because customers only ever wanted to be served by her.

 

Now, Lesley is retired. But, thanks to her passion for giving back to her local community, you can still find that face smiling back at you from behind a desk – that of ellenor’s Northfleet-based hospice.

 

ellenor provides care and support for patients with life-limiting and life-threatening illnesses throughout Kent and Bexley. And, though the majority of its care for life-limited patients and their families happens from their own homes across Dartford, Gravesham, Swanley, and Bexley, ellenor maintains a presence in Northfleet, where the hospice charity runs its inpatient ward and provides on-site Wellbeing services such as counselling, occupational therapy, and a range of other complementary therapies.

 

Lesley’s role at ellenor involves answering internal calls and providing information about what ellenor is and does. Primarily, though it’s to be the first port of call for anyone – be they a patient, a family member, a visitor, a bereaved individual seeking support, or even a curious community member interested in learning more – walking through those doors. Speaking of those doors, Lesley remembers walking through them herself, six years ago. She’d just retired and was looking for some way to give back to the place she knew meant so much to her community. 

 

“I walked into ellenor, and the ladies here asked how they could help me,” Lesley recalls. “I simply replied, ‘I was hoping I could help you!’”

 

Now, more than half a decade later, Lesley is still thriving in ellenor’s foremost people-facing role. But Lesley also acknowledges that being the first face people entering the building see comes with a responsibility. And that it’s on her and her fellow Front Desk Volunteer Pam to help tackle negative misconceptions around what hospices are, and the increasingly vital role they fulfil for the communities they support.

 

“People are walking into a place they might never have been to before or are wary of. They may also have the wrong idea of what a hospice is, so we aim to give everyone that comes here a warm welcome. It puts them at ease; they lower their guard. We make them feel welcome, and that helps them realise it’s not this place they’ve perhaps been fearing it is.”

Of course, this also means navigating the complex emotions many people arrive at ellenor with – something Lesley’s innate people-person tendencies, not to mention almost half a century working in a bank, have left her well equipped to do.

 

“You look at someone’s face, and at their body language – and you intuitively know how to speak to them. You can’t treat everyone the same, because not everyone is the same. It depends on the person standing in front of you; on that individual, and on their unique needs and situation''.

Lesley has sat with family members. Told stories with them, consoled them; laughed with them and, at times, cried with them, too.

 

But, perhaps most importantly, Lesley’s top skill isn’t talking. It’s listening – and hugging.

 

“I met a lady here whose sister was under ellenor’s care. We built up a rapport really quickly, as the lady waited while her sister was being admitted to the ward. We sat talking for almost an hour, then, when they called her away, she gave me such a great big hug. She said ‘I knew you’d be a good hugger’ and thanked me for talking to her and listening. It wasn’t me doing the talking – I was listening. And that’s such an important part.

“We’re here for everyone,” Lesley continues, “and not just for now, but for later, too. Know that if your family is grieving, we are here for you; and that, when you walk away from here, you can return whenever you want. If there’s anything we can do for you, just let us know.”

 

Walking to work, Lesley sometimes plays a game. The goal? To make as many of the people she passes on her commute – often with their eyes down or glued distractedly to their phone – smile or return her hello. “I always try to bring a smile to someone’s face,” Lesley says, and that ethos is reflected in the first of her two life mottos: “a smile costs nothing”.

 

If that motto reflects Lesley’s sunny, positive disposition, the second – ”to treat people the same way you’d like to be treated” – embodies her deep reserves of empathy; empathy which is all the more profound in her role at ellenor because Lesley hasn’t just been a provider of ellenor’s services. She’s been on the receiving end of ellenor’s support, too.

 

That happened during COVID-19 when Lesley’s husband, Nigel, but also known as Nick, was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. Nick was given between three and six months to live, with no prognosis other than to settle his affairs and make peace with the inevitable. He was referred to hospice care, and ellenor stepped in to support Lesley, and their 2 children, Carey and Adam: helping the family secure blue badge parking for hospital visits and access financial support should they need it.

 

Incredibly, however, NIcks’s diagnosis was found to be a mistake – and he had Diffuse Large B Cell lymphoma of the pancreas, not pancreatic cancer. A bold, experimental treatment (including up to five rounds of chemotherapy per day) had an effect and, today, Nick’s cancer is gone. But his wife Lesley will never forget the support ellenor extended when things seemed at their worst.

 

“It really gave me a different perspective of the hospice; that, even though I was working there, I also had that support in my personal life. It was like someone giving you a hug down the phone. ellenor gave us things the hospital couldn’t – and we spoke to ellenor more than we did the GP! Put simply, ellenor were brilliant; absolutely brilliant.”

 

So pop in sometime, and see that iconic, Northfleet-famous smile for yourself. Have a chat, have a laugh, and if it seems like Lesley seems right at home, well – that’s because she is.

 

“ellenor is a very warm, very welcoming place,” Lesley says with (you guessed it) a smile. “It’s a place you can be yourself, a place that feels as if it’s your home as soon as you walk in. People relax here and tell you how lovely it is to be here – we hear that a lot, and I agree.

 

“I plan to volunteer at ellenor forever”, Lesley finishes, that sweet smile morphing into a cheeky grin. “You’ll have to drag me out of here!”