My brave boy’s FINAL WISH

Sitting down on the couch next to my 17-year-old son, Rhys, I handed him a heat pack.

‘Thanks, Mum,’ he grinned.

Back from boarding school for the holidays, his left hip hurt. We’d put it down to when he’d broken his right leg the year before, thinking his left leg was over-compensating for it.

With four other kids – Zac, then 24, Lewis, 15, Jorja, 10, and Charlie, seven – my husband, Brett, and I had seen our share of bumps and scrapes.

But spotting Rhys dragging his leg, I could see he was in real agony.

Plus it wasn’t like Rhys to complain. A thrillseeker, who loved motorbikes and cage-diving, he wasn’t one to make a fuss.

Cheeky and fun, it was always Rhys and me on the roller-coaster on days out, as the others were too scared!

So I took him to the doctor and he was put on a waiting list