Dad was moved from hospital, into a hospice as he requires a lot of care that my mum would not be able to cope with providing on her own.
Sadly dad spent the majority of the last 6 months of his life in hospital, and we were unable to get dad home for the end of his life. However we did get him into a hospice, so he did receive very good care.
On Tuesday of this week my mum phoned me in tears and said the hospice had phoned and said that dad was deteriorating quickly, and suggested she should come to the hospice. I met my mum at the hospice and we went in to see him, he was still conscious, however they had set-up a driver with continuous pain relief. My sister and her husband arrived as well, my dad was a little confused as to why we were all there together, as we had all been visiting separately. My sons had sports afternoon, and dad said I should go and watch them and wish them luck from him, so I left.
I phoned the hospice in the evening, my mum, sister and her husband had left and dad was comfortable.
I went in to visit dad on Wednesday morning he was complaining that he felt very itchy, so I scratched his back for him. He wasn't interested in his lunch he sucked the juice from a bit of melon and spat out the flesh, and had 3 mouthful's of custard.
My mum, sister and her hubby went to see him on Wednesday evening and just when they were leaving my dad became agitated and started gasping for air. The nurses gave him something to calm him down, and said he probably had just hours left. One nurse said to mum as she went off duty I don't expect I'll see you when I come back on duty in the morning.
My sister called me, and I put my children to bed and left them with a friend in charge. Then I went into the hospice, my dad was unconscious.
However my stubborn dad kept on fighting, the nurse returned in the morning for her shift and was surprised to see us still there. My sister and I went and got some lunch for us, my mum and her hubby at the hospice cafeteria. Then just as we had finished and my sister had left the room to clear the plates away, my dad's breathing began to get shorter and then stopped but just for a second then started again. He then did this a few times then stopped, I said to my sisters hubby he should go and get Jenny, then my dad gasped for another breath just as my sister came back into the room.
He then stopped, and gasped for breath another 2 times, before finally gasping his last breath at 2pm on Thursday 11 July 2013 aged 71 years. We were all in the room with him.
