I got arrived back in Devon late last night. Just in time. My dad had deteriorated again, my brother was struggling on his own. Last night he had a disturbed night, waking for pain relief and cramp in his leg which I massaged. Next time I found him on the toilet, God knows how he got there, he's so weak. He'd not made it in time so we changed the sheets and cleaned him up, transferring him back to bed he could barely get off the toilet even with help. In the morning he was pretty incoherent and couldn't walk or swallow pills. I lay down and cuddled him for half an hour. We eventually dressed him and moved him to the living room, carring him took both my brothers. He settled in the hospital bed so we could be with him all the time in the living room.
I called the district nurse and his GP as we could no longer take him to the toilet or give him adequate pain relief, although it was hard to tell if he was in pain, he made no noises.
For a while we held him and he said goodbye, told us he was happy, we told him we loved him very much, cried and held his hand.
The GP arrived giving him a morphine shot and a sedative to settle him. After that he was very still, eyes half open, breathing so slowly we thought he was going so many times.
He's still here now, a syringe driver in place to keep him pain free. Every now and then he moans, I hold his hand, stroke his forehead, tell him I'm still here. He soon settles down.
So we continue to wait, the wood burning stove is lit, I put on some gentle piano music, and wait.
