What a horrible couple of weeks!
On the evening of Tuesday (2nd), my left ear bunged up. It was like being underwater, the sort of deafness that can be fixed by nose holding and pushing the pressure from the inside to the out. Except it didn't.
My DB and I left early on Wednesday morning to visit my parents. My Dad was in hospital, and it wasn't looking great. Our other brother declined the option of coming along.
I wore a very high quality mask from the moment I got to my brother until moment I got home.
We had a meeting with one of the Doctors on Wednesday afternoon, and then a meeting with the senior consultant on Thursday morning. The news wasn't great, Dad was going to be moved to palliative care, Dad would be fast tracked so that he could be moved home, and a team would come in 4 times a day to look after him. The prognosis was 4-6 weeks. There was to be a multi disciplinary team meeting the following day to confirm this.
We decided to wait until after the meeting before letting everyone know what was happening, so that we could give them accurate information.
DB and I were driving home late Friday afternoon when the call came through to say that the situation had changed somewhat. Dad wouldn't be going home, there wasn't time. It was now likely to be days to a week now.
With Mum's agreement, I contacted the various family members to let them know the news. We couldn't get hold of our brother. We guessed that he was probably screening his calls, and that he'd phone back when he saw that he had so many missed calls (and messages asking him to phone).
I'd phoned all my Uncles to let them know of the situation and dissuaded
them from trying to visit. Repeating the same thing so many times was hard work, but the retelling made it easier to get the words out. The hardest was telling my Dad's youngest brother (who is not much older than my husband) They were very close; almost every time I've phoned him in the last few years has been to tell him that someone is in hospital, or has died. They all live too far away from my parents to come and see Dad in hospital - and, to be frank, my Mum preferred that they didn't visit. She wanted them to remember my Dad as he was when they last saw him. I wanted to
take away any guilt they might feel about not making the journey.
We agreed with Mum that we would go back on Tuesday (9th). This would give me time to see a doctor about my cough, sore throat and deafness on Monday. My cough had got even worse (which was a shock, as it had been improving). I think wearing a mask for 3 days hadn't really done me much good.
.......
I spent Saturday morning in bed, trying to recover. Then Mum phoned on Saturday to say that things had declined, and the ward sister said we needed to be there on Sunday. DB went round to check other brother was OK (he lives alone), and to update him.
The local (to us, not to my parents) Uncle wanted to come along. I think he wanted to do this for his dying brother, and to do it for the brothers who couldn't be there. He'd visited Dad with us in December, so he already knew what Dad looked like, so it wouldn't be quite such a shock to him.
.......
We all set off early Sunday. The people at the place where we stay are lovely, and they were happy to rearrange our dates. This time I wore an even stonger mask, a proper FP2 one, to make sure I didn't spread my lurgy to my Uncle and Brother. I also took paracetamol every 4 hours, no matter what.
We went direct to the hospital.
Dad was in a lot of distress, very agitated. It wasn't at all what we had expected palliative care to be. We went off to find a doctor to ask about it all. Long story short, the palliative care hadn't started and wasn't going to start until Monday.
Dad was obviously in a lot of pain, so we asked foor his pain relief to be increased, and we asked why the palliative care hadn't been started. The on call doctor came to see us, and she then had a conflab by phone with the senior consultant, and they agreed to start the process.
Mum stayed with him, against our advice, on Sunday night. We'd wanted her to sleep at home so that she was as rested as possible for the next few days. She was convinced he would die very quickly, so wouldn't leave him.
We went back to our accomm via Mum's to see to their aged dog.
We got to the hospital, having travelled the long way round so we could stop in and see the dog on the way. It had been a terrible night for Mum as Dad was so agitated. It wasn't at all what we had expected palliative care to be.
Mum had worked out that the pain happened when the catheter was used, and we asked the nursing staff to have a look at it.
Mum was shattered. She agreed to go home and get some rest, so we decided that Uncle and I would stay with Dad while DB took Mum home to get some sleep. We played music for him, and we chatted to him, and about him, and about stuff and about nothing.
It takes about 45 mins to get from the hospital to Mum's so DB was gone some time.
Just before he got back to the hospital, Dad had a syringe driver put in, and the agitation eventually stopped.
The accommodation people were lovely, and extended our stay for another night.
We were there all day. DB set off again at about 5pm to collect Mum, and they got back to the hospital just before 7pm.
We stayed for little while, then we left Mum with Dad again. We called in to Morrisons to get some food,which we took back to Mum, and then we drove over to Mum's so that we could feed the dog and spend a bit of time with her.
On Tuesday, we visited the Dog first thing, and then went on to the hospital. Mum didn't want to go home this time, because we had said we would be leaving at about 2pm to go home.
Dad was quite peaceful at this stage, it was much more the way we had expected palliative care to be. Mum was doing OK (as well as she could be expected to, anyway), so we left as planned at 2pm. Of course we felt awkward at going, but we had to go sometime.
We called in on the way to see the Dog, and to fix a couple of things in the house. It was a tiring journey home, and I was pleased to sleep in my own bed.
........
It's now Wednesday 1pm, and Dad is still here. It makes me feel marginally better about leaving yesterday.
My ear is still blocked, but now I can depressurise it temporarily (which I couldn't do at all last week) by holding my ears,closing my mouth and "blowing". My cough is more under control, and I'm having paracetamol first thing, last thing, and maybe once in between. It's wonderful to not have a mask on. I also feel better physically than I have done for a few weeks, so that's good.
Both DB and I agreed we need a few nights at our respective homes before we think about going back again. We're in constant touch with Mum, technology has been such an asset.
I have a funeral tomorrow, DH's best friend. It's also our local Uncle's birthday.
