As children growing up we never really got on.  Mainly due to me being the obnoxious, limelight hogging, three years younger brother, and Scott being the much quieter, more chilled elder brother.  This was pretty much how I saw things, but in hindsight (a wonderful thing) we didn’t really hate each other but had very different personalities.  He always looked after me without ever showing that he was doing it.

As you get past your adolescent years you begin to see the world as it really is and begin to grow up.  Scott and I started to get on better and went out together with “the lads”.  This led to more than a few memorable moments and funny stories.  We still had very different personalities but got on well.  Scott was always pleasant, amiable and willing to talk to anyone and everyone.  He always had girls chasing him but he was never big headed, just simply a genuine, nice guy.

The first indication I had that there was anything wrong with Scott was one Monday afternoon in summer 2001.  We were at home just standing and having a chat in the conservatory and suddenly Scott started talking gibberish, he knew it didn’t make sense but he was unable to correct himself.  It took just 30 seconds and then he was back to normal, it was a very strange and concerning 30 seconds.  We put it down to a big weekend and tiredness.

A couple of weeks later Scott told a friend at work that he was going for a sleep, and then he collapsed.

Shortly after that he had a couple of scans and was diagnosed with a brain tumour.  We didn’t know too much about what it was and what it would entail but when we were told that he would need surgery, we all knew that this would have a massive impact on all our lives.  The surgery was a success, Scott, my mum and dad and I thought that things were going to get back to normal. 

After a brief recuperation, Scott went back to work – apart from epilepsy and some loss of speech, everything seemed to be going well and he was living a normal life once again, until the following summer.

He became ill and was in hospital when he collapsed again and had to have emergency surgery to remove part of the tumour.  Unfortunately it wasn’t successful and he had to have another operation a couple of days later.  The surgeon told us that it was likely that Scott would not recover from this, and he was on life support for over a week. 

When they took out his respiration tube, he did a typical Scott, and started to breath again.  This was an incredibly emotional week which, when he had regained consciousness, Scott shrugged it off as a routine thing.

The following year I went travelling in Australia for 12 months, keeping in touch regularly. 

It was decided that Scott was not going to be able to return to work and he began attending the St Gemma’s Day Centre in Leeds where he really enjoyed his time with the regulars there.  He lost more of his speech and struggled with long conversations but he rarely got upset about it and more often than not, laughed it off.  I think he found St Gemma’s a comfortable environment to be in, though he still maintained his social life away from the illness – he was a very popular lad with lots of friends.   Throughout the whole illness if you asked anyone who knew Scott to describe him, they would most likely say “what a lovely lad, positive and friendly”.

Scott and my mum, Linda, found Andrea’s Gift through Cookridge Hospital where they used to go to a brain tumour support group, and also for regular medical check ups.  I am sure the support of the others in the group was a massive help to Scott and also to my mum and dad, Billy over the final part of his life. 

Scott’s condition became progressively worse and we were told in August 2005 that his tumour had changed from a Grade II to a Grade IIII and that he was going to need a further operation.  As before he took the news well, I remember welling up with tears as he was due to go for the op, I wasn’t the only one.  He just smiled and looked at us and said “what are you upset for?  I’ll be alright”.  He went in for the operation and was up and smiling again hours later. Amazing man.

The operation had been a success but the tumour came back again and started to have more of an effect on Scott’s mobility which made his life a lot more difficult.  Still I never heard him complain.

He didn’t like to use the wheelchair but when it was necessary he would get in and accept the situation.  By the time he was admitted to St Gemma’s his mobility had seriously deteriorated and he needed help with most things, yet he still managed to face most days with a smile and all the nurses, staff and his visitors got a handshake or a kiss.

After a long stay, Scott lost his fight on 30^th August 2006 aged 32.

He never lost his pleasant nature the whole time and I am sure that he will be remembered fondly by everyone who had the pleasure of meeting him. 

I will never stop missing him and I know my mum and dad and a lot of his friends won’t either.  Hopefully the good memories of Scott will be the ones that we all keep with us.

Written by Scott’s brother, Craig