My gorgeous Sam died on the 10th December. He had just started another round of daily radiotherapy for 5 days and I think he couldn't face it. On the evening of his first treatment within half an hour of me ordering, as instructed, the last christmas present for his daughter he became confused and seemed to be suffering from the effects of too much medication even though it had not changed. I hoped he would sleep it off but in the morning Sam was the same. As he was due to have radiotherapy, and transport had been arranged, I phoned for the district nurses to come and see Sam. That's when all hell broke loose. They phoned our GP and hospice nurse as they were concerned about Sam. They also phoned the people who needed to come and move his bed downstairs and I had to ring the district nurses again when it had been done so that they could come back and get Sam comfortable in bed. Sam was quite agitated and had worked his way down his reclining chair so that he was nearly off the end of it. I couldn't move him back up and was so worried about him. The men arrived to move the bed and I asked them to help me move Sam, which at first they refused, as I expected, but when I burst into tears they moved him straight away. Sam went to sleep as soon as they had and just before that was the last time he was properly awake. I phoned the district nurses and they came very quickly to get him into bed. Then our GP arrived and the hospice nurse. Arrangements were made for a syringe driver to be put up as Sam couldn't take his tablets. I was advised to contact his family although the hope was that the radiotherapy had given quick relief and it was just the side effects of his painkillers. I phoned Sam's brother who was working away in France and he said he would get the next flight. Sam's sister and daughters were with us very quickly. Sam was very comfortable and quiet and Sam's eldest daughter sent me to bed at half eleven to try to get some sleep. I didn't sleep and came down at half twelve. Sam's sister and youngest daughter had gone home as Sam seemed to be settled. Sam's brother had phoned to ay he would arrive the following lunchtime. My daughter decided to go to Tesco to get us supplies to last us through the night. I held Sam's hand and told him I love him and that he could relax. Only his eldest daughter and I were now with him. Within ten mintes his breathing changed and as his daughter was phoning the district nurse Sam took his last breath. He was so peaceful and it seemed he had waited until the house was quiet and he was left with those who would be able to cope with what was going to happen. Sam had fought so hard and all his medical staff had said that he was only still with us through his determination, from a medical point of view he had been here at least a year more than expected. The past 18 days have been a blur and unreal. I can't believe he has gone and I keep expecting to hear his call. I can't go into the living room as there is such a large void. Sleeping is something that I know I must do but is elusive. After such a long time of constant rounds of tablets and helping Sam to be comfortable I am lost. His brother went back to France yesterday and this morning was the first day I had absolutely nothing to get up for. I should have tried to sleep but I can't. I miss Sam so much, I am only glad that he is no longer in pain and frustrated by the restrictions his illness put on his life. Sam is the kindest, most loving man I have ever known and I love him with all my heart.
