Dad had been ill for around a month up to Christmas, but had been diagnosed with gallstones, and booked in for a more detailed scan, following an ultrasound finding a shadow on his liver. He worked full time up until Christmas, and it was only in January when he was signed off by his GP. He had lost a lot of weight and kept being sick, and had stomach pain, therefore his GP prescribed him strong painkillers. He took a turn for the worse on 7th February, so we convinced him to see his GP to get him admitted to hospital to try and speed up the diagnosis process as by now he was becoming jaundiced. He had had an MRI scan but was waiting his follow up appointment planned for around the 3rd week of February.
He was admitted following his GP's appointment, which was a relief as he lived on his own which was a worry.
His pain was controlled whilst in hospital, and he was hydrated. On the Friday (10th Feb) the liver specialist came to see us whilst visiting and told us that he had bowel cancer which had spread to his liver and lungs.
I was visiting him with my partner and my second baby daughter who was 2 weeks old.
We talked about pallative chemo, however as she stated you had to be 'well'enough to have chemo, it was clear that dad wasn't.
The nursing staff did all they could and made him comfortable, but asked us to think about a nursing home as it was unlikely he would manage at home alone.
He was 59, and had up until Christmas worked full time and I was asked to look at old peoples homes to put him in.
He seemed brighter over the weekend as his pain was managed better, his only complaint was an upset stomach which he said was a symptom he'd only had whilst being in hospital.
Towards late Sunday things changed again and he slept more and was catherised and had virtually stopped eating and drinking.
His breathing became more laboured and the nursing staff informed us that his kidneys were failing.
We were told that they would actively treat this for 24 hours before evaluating the situation again.
Unfortunately his kidneys didn't respond, his breathing worsened and he was put on oxygen, and he slipped in and out on conciousness.
I visited him last on Tuesday 14th February, in the afternoon, we tried to get him into a hospice but there were no beds, so all we could do was get him a side room.
I was called in around 8pm by my uncle who was visiting, and when I arrived at the hospital I was told he had died.
I went in to see him and say my goodbyes, I then had to ring my sister, and asked her to call our other sister who lives in Australia, who was also due to have a baby by caesarian on the following Monday.
He was admitted to hospital and died within 7 days.
I'm still in shock, and although the funeral has been and gone, I don't feel like I have absorbed everything .
My sisters and I have had to sort out his house ready for sale which has been very emotional.
Whilst he was in hospital my father in law was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer and ended up sat in the bed opposite on the same ward. He didn't recognise him as he looked so poorly.
Fortunately he has been able to return home, but for how long is unclear.
My dad would have been 60 on St Georges day, I didn't think I would be spending it tending his grave.
Not sure how to move forward! writing it down feels good tho, any advice appreciated.
