Day 1

Day 1 - Numbness

Strange day today, almost missed the morning's texting frenzy.

Took Jake to sprint training at the Mountbatten Centre in the pouring rain, only to find out it wasn't on because of the Race/Relay for Life! Ummed and ahhed for a while then got £40's worth of KFC to take round Mum's for everyone which was devoured quickly !! Jo and Jo had gone round early this morning with an impromptu delivery of tea and biscuits as they guessed there would be a lot of visitors today - beautiful thought. :) I keep thinking that Jo L must be a secret axe murderess or something sinister somewhere along the line as every time I meet her I just get this overwhelming sense of niceness and good - not in a sickening Judy Garland sort of way but just a really, really nice person !!

Anyway, munched food, went shopping and went home only to have to go back again for Heather's stuff as Nat is staying round tonight. Four hours later and there is a problem somewhere so H is back off round to do her stuff. Angie got in a bit of a strop about it but it's the pressure of the O2 on top of everything else.

Must say that throughout this whole experience, Heather has been absolutely fantastic and has been put it more situations and stressful conditions than anyone should endure and has been a rock at all times. Just her presence has been a comfort I think, let alone the fetching, carrying, helping out and company! Don't get me wrong; Karen, Michael, Mary et al have all been fantastic but if there was a man-of-the-match award, I would have to give it to Heather - incredibly proud, humbled and feeling guilty that I can't afford or imagine any gift I can get her to show how I feel or how much good she has done.

Angie off to the O2 at 05:30 in the morning, had a sudden panic attack about it all. Heather and I metaphorically slapped her around the face and put her straight. Big day and she's gone through most of it with little support from us as it is school thing but I think they'll do well if the nerves don't get to them all :)

So yeah, a strange day of mixed emotions and general numbness. Sadness that Dad is no longer with us, happiness that his suffering was short and is over, guilty,selfish happiness that my pain is lessened, bewilderment and anger(?) that his demise was so quick - almost as though we have been cheated of our chance to suffer the full horror and grief - very weird. Kept hearing his voice and thinking I saw him as well - doubly weird, it really hasn't sunk in yet and you almost feel that it is compulsory not to move on but to grieve uncontrollably. Gonna take some getting used to I think.

There endeth Day 1 AD (After Dad). :(

Day 0

Day 0 - Not Good.

Started the same as every other day for the past week or so, with a long pause until everyone finally plucked up enough courage to send the first 'how's it going?' texts. Closely followed by a frantic round of exchanges to determine just how everybody was feeling (or at least a close public, read-between-the-lines approximation), how everybody slept or didn't and generally settling into the day's discomfort and worry.

Dad had slept better and woke at 02:45 to go to the loo (by himself). Got a little confused afterwards but then went downstairs for a cup of tea and another 2 hours kip in the chair. Later that morning was showing worsening signs of confusion again and sats dropped through the floor to 55 !! Karen and the carer were round and wanted to call an ambulance but Dad is desperate to stay. We all tried to explain to him that he had 2 choices - either go to hospital and get help or stay and get worse and he didn't have a lot or 'worse' left. Sneaking suspicion in all of our minds that he wanted to leave hospital so badly to come home and die but without knowing this we have to do everything that we can to help him through and Mum can't sit there and watch this happen, she's coped amazingly well so far but like the rest of us she is having her heart torn out and her mind tortured at the same time.

Anyway, ambulance arrives, sats down too low to do anything but stabilise. They get them up to 71 and off to the back of the wagon for lines and the trip to QA. Consultant Mark has been brilliant throughout as well with constant calls and advice and has arranged for Dad to go straight onto E8. Once there it is more bad news, suspected pneumonia has formed - Dad will either respond to the antibiotics and be fine(comparatively) in the morning and should survive for maybe a few weeks. If not then the rest of the weekend is looking unlikely - Grim either way :(

I make my excuses to work, just can't concentrate and really need to be with Mum or Dad. Michael at the hospital and Dad well out of it, trying to pull his lines out and throwing things around !! Go to Mum's instead and wish I could do something useful. Heather looking forward to tonight's curry so we head on back. Try to catch up on my design work, fail. Try to catch up on timesheet, fail. Sit looking confused, worrying which piece of work needs the most attention and how I will fit them all in before Monday when I am meant to be heading to Brentford until Wednesday night and then driving to Derby - Succeed !

Tony round, tandoori mixed grill for me as I haven't eaten today, save for a snack-size pack of twiglets found lurking in my pocket. Halfway through Karen calls in a state and wants me to spend the night at the hospital to make sure Dad doesn't try to escape. He's not sounding good in the background at all. Sudden panic as I have to exercise some share options today or I will lose them. Price has been dropping like Dad's sats recently but flog them anyway for a small profit hopefully. Additional panic as it looks like there was a problem with the 'Proceeds Method' and the account info or something - dunno, the info is exactly the same as the last time I did this. Email UBS - "We will respond within 24hrs" - Great. I need this in the next 20 mins so call them instead. Surprisingly managed to answer enough security questions to get through and the transaction had completed, phew !!

So, get changed, grab a pack of Dark-chocolate Hob-Nobs and jump a cab to QA - £8.60's worth if you drive the entire way at sub 30 mph!

Maurice looking composed as ever, Karen looking a wreck, Dad looking rough. Lines in, oxygen mask on and breathing like someone from the first Alien film - short, shallow pants and mainly using the abdomen.

Just discussing what was needed etc. and the dramatic change from a man that was sat on a similar bed 48hrs ago, complaining about the food, the noise the uncomfortable chairs and how is was looking forward to getting back to home comforts, when Karen suddenly thinks that Dad has stopped breathing. Karen heads for the nurses, I hit the panic button and Maurice goes for the pulse - very faint with only the slightest respiration. Girl comes in (definitely getting old!) in a grey uniform looking very worried about what she is going to find and how she was going to deal with us distraught relatives - felt sorry for her. Karen freaked and ran out of the room, can't blame her, I was nearly close behind to see if she was okay and then she reappeared and adopted the watching Dr.Who technique of fearfully peering around the corner. Grey nurse quietly announced he had gone a few times followed by no there's a very shallow breath a few times - I began to wish there was a screen somewhere with a graph I could watch instead and listen to the beep. Other nurse in blue checked the notes to confirm the 'no resuscitation' entry and they went to page the doc.

Eventually though, Maurice and myself were holding his hands praying for any signs of a pulse and we all three sat there, staring expectantly for another movement. But that was it, one of the greatest men in my life had slipped away, quietly and peacefully. No fanfare, no drama, no continuous flat-line signal, no wailing or gnashing of teeth, just quietly drifted off. Dad won't be cruising to Heaven on a big, noisy motor yacht, all you'll hear is the gentle slap of the water against a wooden hull, the soft splash of an oar or maybe the contented flap of canvas as it catches the wind.

Safe journey Dad.