Dad is due to start chemotherapy tomorrow. We visited the oncology department last Tuesday to get the lowdown on it all.
This week, he has really deteriorated. He has become more weak, struggling to get to the bathroom, his ankles are swollen, constipation (due to the opiate based drugs), oral thrush and goodness knows what else. We know he is in pain but he wont admit it to us. No appetite, (thats not only Dad), and crabby as hell (to be expected).
Well, after a rotten day yesterday, we called the lung cancer specialist nurse and Dad's GP, who came out to visit. He said Dad has creps in the base of both lungs, which could be either infection or fluid, also perhaps a bit of ascites in his abdomen, and enlarged liver. I can't help thinking this is the beginning of the end.
Dad has to go into hospital, but they can't find him a bed today, so we have to ring again at 9 in the morning.
The irony of it, he was to begin treatment tomorrow, and this wicked disease appears to be galloping through him like a thoroughbred in the Grand National!
And there was I, thinking I had cried enough tears to break the drought!
