With everything going so quickyl downhill lately, the young ones are well aware how poorly daddy is. One tries to stay out of the way and avoid it all by going upstairs to play; one draws pictures and makes cards and sings to him, trying to will him better; the other gets drinks, takes rubbish, brings food, holds his hand. But none of them are safe from his hurtful words. He says them without realising. The old version of him wouldn't dream of speaking tot hem in this way. But the tumours on his brain, along with the steriods he's taking, bring wierd and angry paranoid hallucinations. He's been home from hospital less than 48 hours and has made the children cry twice. Calling them liars; shouting at them for something they never did. I do my best to explain this is the cancer talking and not dad. Dad loves them and wants them to be happy. Reminding them how dad was everyone's favourite parent before the cancer. They nod, with tears in their eyes, and I can feel their hearts breaking.
I have read the leaflets; bought the children's books to help with these situations; talked with them about how these things can change people; cuddled them to reassure them they are loved. But I still worry it isn't enough. They desperately love him and are doing all they can to help him, but he is unwittingly spitting it back in their faces.
He never even remembers saying anything at all, let alone hurting them. He is suffering so much in himself, and the lack of memory is just one on a laundry list of symptoms. I cannot hold him accountable, nor resent his behaviour; it simply isn't him. But the children...they are young. They are doing the best they can to cope, but this is devastating. If I could take the heartbreak fromt hem, I would gladly suffer it for them.
Just so sad for them today. Don't know what to do.
