Dad update
Apr. 28th, 2015 09:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amberdreamsFirst off, I'm sorry I haven't responded individually to all your kind and supportive comments yesterday, I did read every one of them and am grateful for all of them. A couple of people have asked if I mind prayers amongst the good wishes and of course I don't mind. All forms of postive thoughts are very welcome. Thank you all very much.
I got a call this morning from Mum asking me to come up to Shrewsbury because the consultant has decided Dad's condition meant the operation was no longer an option. He's on nil by mouth, they are giving him pain meds if he appears distressed, relaxants to help with his breathing and moistening his lips - but no water.
I travelled up and arrived at the hospital about 5pm, not knowing if he'd still be alive or not, or even whether I wanted him to be. Does that sound callous? I don't know. I wanted him to be alive so I could tell him I loved him and he was the best Dad I could ever have wished for - but that was probably more for my benefit than for his, because we have no idea if he can hear us or not. But there you go, I have now told him, and we'd made sure his hearing aid had a new battery and was switched on before I said it!
But basically, he's pretty much gone already, he just happens to be still breathing, and I am hoping he doesn't take to long to die, because it is too sad to see him like this. Not because he looks terrible and ill, but because he kind of doesn't? He feels too solid to be gone. He's been moved to a side room but the nurses are lovely. They really seem to care about him and Mum. They've been sorting her out with food and drink, and keep asking how she's doing when they came in to see to turning Dad. They also talk to him nicely, like he's still a real person, which is a comfort to us if not to him.
We've come home to the house tonight so Mum can get some sleep as she didn't get any rest last night. The nurses said they will ring us if anything changes - by which I assume they mean if he dies in the night. If he does, I don't know if we'll rush over there, after all, he'll be gone so what would be the point? It is really wierd to be here knowing he'll never come back to the house. I put some of his shirts away even though I know we'll be having to think about disposing of his clothes soon - it feels disrespectful to put them into a charity bag now though.
Mum seems to be holding up well at the moment. We are dissuading family from coming as the aunties are likely to want to be helpful round the house and will drive Mum nuts. I have to say, it is better this way round - Mum is competent and self reliant, and capable - if she'd gone first and left Dad on his own, he would not have coped well.
I'm rambling a bit now - I'll sign off and potter about doing mindless things for a bit. Thank you all again - who'd have thought remote friendships would be so comforting? Hugs to you all.
I got a call this morning from Mum asking me to come up to Shrewsbury because the consultant has decided Dad's condition meant the operation was no longer an option. He's on nil by mouth, they are giving him pain meds if he appears distressed, relaxants to help with his breathing and moistening his lips - but no water.
I travelled up and arrived at the hospital about 5pm, not knowing if he'd still be alive or not, or even whether I wanted him to be. Does that sound callous? I don't know. I wanted him to be alive so I could tell him I loved him and he was the best Dad I could ever have wished for - but that was probably more for my benefit than for his, because we have no idea if he can hear us or not. But there you go, I have now told him, and we'd made sure his hearing aid had a new battery and was switched on before I said it!
But basically, he's pretty much gone already, he just happens to be still breathing, and I am hoping he doesn't take to long to die, because it is too sad to see him like this. Not because he looks terrible and ill, but because he kind of doesn't? He feels too solid to be gone. He's been moved to a side room but the nurses are lovely. They really seem to care about him and Mum. They've been sorting her out with food and drink, and keep asking how she's doing when they came in to see to turning Dad. They also talk to him nicely, like he's still a real person, which is a comfort to us if not to him.
We've come home to the house tonight so Mum can get some sleep as she didn't get any rest last night. The nurses said they will ring us if anything changes - by which I assume they mean if he dies in the night. If he does, I don't know if we'll rush over there, after all, he'll be gone so what would be the point? It is really wierd to be here knowing he'll never come back to the house. I put some of his shirts away even though I know we'll be having to think about disposing of his clothes soon - it feels disrespectful to put them into a charity bag now though.
Mum seems to be holding up well at the moment. We are dissuading family from coming as the aunties are likely to want to be helpful round the house and will drive Mum nuts. I have to say, it is better this way round - Mum is competent and self reliant, and capable - if she'd gone first and left Dad on his own, he would not have coped well.
I'm rambling a bit now - I'll sign off and potter about doing mindless things for a bit. Thank you all again - who'd have thought remote friendships would be so comforting? Hugs to you all.