Hi

The last 4 months have been surreal, starting in early August when my dear dad was diagnosed with Stage IV lung cancer, which had gone to the lymph nodes in the arm. 

His outlook was so positive, he knew he couldn't be cured and had to live with what he had been dealt with, and did not want to know his prognosis of how long he had left to live. 

He started his course of Chemo in early September and seemed to sail through it with few side effects, a complete lack of appetite for a few days but no sickness or nausea, and coming up to his second round of Chemo in late September the mood was upbeat. He felt good in himself, was mobile and active, albeit tired, but a few days before his due date for his second round of Chemo he was struck down by back pain. He put it down to sciatica or a similar symptom to what he had experienced a few years previous from having a fall, and had treatment from a chiropractor which seemed to alleviate the problem. 

On the day before his next Chemo session, in his consultation with his oncologist, the oncoligist was concerned with the back pain and admitted dad into hospital to have it scanned. The scan revealed the cancer had spread to the spine and a dose of radiotherapy would be required. Dad was admitted into hospital on Monday, radiotherapy on Wednesday, and in his first week in hospital he was good, in good spirits, walking around and everthing seemed fine. Then over his first weekend he developed a bit of a cough, which was being treated with intravenous antibiotics, and his due release date was put back a few days as they wanted to flush the virus or infection out of him. 

Then, when mum and myslef visited dad a week after his admission, we were both destroyed by seeing dad in such a bad way, not lucid, falling asleep so easily, no concentration, and it was like this was a different person to someone we had only seen the day before. We put it down to the pain relief he was on, an oral morphine-type drug and perhaps his intolerance to it, and two days after this, dad was again on good form and our spirits lifted, and we were confident that dad would recommence his next round of Chemo. Then on the Thursday, dad was not good again, and his oncologist was concerned and ordered another chest CT scan. This was now mid-October and dad's previous CT scan was late July just prior to his diagnosis. The results of this more recent CT scan revealed that the cancer had spread further and that any further Chemo would be futile, as it was more likely to cause more harm than good. We were told this on the Monday, this being two weeks after dad's admission to hospital, and plans were drawn up to get dad back home. Even then his oncologist was saying that dad had a good few weeks left and may pass towards the end of 2015. 

Dad was discharged from hospital on Wednesday, being the middle of October and got progressively weaker and breathing became more and more laboured. He said on the Wednesday that now he was home, he would start to eat better and had to plan for the time he had left, to organise finances etc. Dad passed in the very early hours of Monday, following the Wednesday of his discharge, lasting barely 100 hours after the oncoligist was predicting weeks. 

The suddenness of events is breathtaking, and not in a good way, and dad passing around 10 weeks after being diagnosed is brutal. The good thing is that he didn't suffer much prolonged pain, but for those left, especially mum and me who had been with him all the way, the acceptance that he has gone is hard to take. If his decline was gradual, over a few months it would have been easier to accept and take, but the speed is unbelievable. If so feel for mum, his life partner (dad was 75 when he died, mum is 72, and they've known each other since she was 15), and inside, whe must be feeling destroyed and bereft. 

My own feelings have been very mixed. Luckily I can work remotely, so have been with mum in the lead up to dad's death and now in the aftermath period, so work for me has been a good distraction and stops the mind wandering, but when I get a quiet moment, I feel completely empty and miss dad so much. Going through the probate process again has been a good distractor, but going through dad's personal effects is gut-wrenching, seeing clothes you can remember him being in, and not seeing him in again is so difficult. Dad was so practical and did everything for mum, as a loving husband would do, so mum has had to learn new things, how to use an ATM, how to read the gas meter, all the things she has never had to do before. 

I'm also caught up in things, as whilst dad has been ill my focus was on mum and dad, and my own partner (who lives the opposite side of the country, has been a little neglected by me, although she has been great in terms of support. 

Things will never be the same again, and time will heal, but dad's death has had a profound effect upon my thinking. I've always been a good planner and thorough organiser of things, but as dad passed so quickly, my views have been shaken somewhat, and instead of looking to the future, my outlook seems to be no more than the week ahead of me. It's as though the future, has become less relevant and short-termism has taken over. I'm hoping I can shift out of this mind-set but at present just cannot see how I will. Also, I'm not sure as how to deal with mum - do I start to take my foot off the gas and give her her own time and space to grieve, or is it better that I'm around to be present for her? I feel so protective towards her at the moment. Our family is small. Mum has a brother in Devon, and my elder brother is in Australia, and mum and dad's social circle was bigger in Spain, where they spend 8 or 9 months of the year. We've yet to return to Spain, and that will be difficult given the incredible times and happiness spent there, and also Xmas this year, neither of us can get enthusiastic about, but we are being 'hounded' to spend Xmas in perhaps a place or in companyt that we may find just too difficult. 

Dad would hate to see us like this. He was so philosophical, saying we all have to go some day, but the void left is immense as he was such a huge part of our lives. 

Thanks for reading, and any advice is greatfully received.