My dad started to have pains in his back for a while and then his left leg got swollen, he went to the doctors over and over and they just dismissed him and told him he had athritis. After 13 weeks of this he lost a lot of weight and he was having shortness of breath so I called an ambulance. They took him into hospital and said they were going to treat him for blood clots but he would need a CT scan the following Tuesday. It was Friday then but because of the bank holiday he had to wait. Over the next few days he seemed to perk up and get his appetite back. 

Tuesday the 30th of may he had his CT scan and I went home to then get a phone call to say they had the results but they wanted a family member present. I knew then it wasn't good. When I got there the doctor explained there was a bone on the top of his spine that was crumbling and they had found abnormalities in his liver pancreas and around the bone of his spine. He would need a biopsy the next day and an MRI to determine.

on the 31st of may he was told it was pancreatic cancer, he was allowed home a few days later and told to await the letter from his oncologist.

when we had the appointment the oncologist told us that it was stage 4 and that chemo would only extend his life by months. Without it he had 6 months.

he swore he wanted to fight it so they said they will send him a letter for the appointment in 3 weeks allowing him to recover from the lung infection.

On th day of he bloods for his chemo he woke up fine but was still tired so I said I'd wake him up before we went which I did but it was a struggle. His body at this point had started jolting and his foot had gotten me down but the other had gone up.

when we got there the nurse said she wanted us to see his oncologist first, she said to him " see you soon" but said to me "take care" then it hit ,e I started to think he's not having treatment.

so then we go to his oncologist and by now he's falling asleep he's jolting and exhaust d. We get into the room and they immediately look concerned and asked him if they could talk to ,e in private. When they wheeled him out I looked at her and I said " your not doing great,ent are you it's too late" 

she he explained that his face had gone it and he was showing signs of being close to the end. I was told I had a choice then to either take him home or there was a bed in a hospice. 

After a lot of debating I agreed to take him to the hospice (so,thing that I thought he would hate me for) 

when we we got there the doctor told me that if he was pushed to an answer then we are looking at weeks but more possibly days, they were just going to make him comfortable.

That was the Thursday, that night I didn't stay with him but ended up phoning every few hours to check on him so I decided I would just stay with him. On the Friday he was still jolting and sleeping a lot but the nurse said this was normal as they have changed his medication. 

On the Saturday morning I woke up to him calling ,e asking how long I was staying I told him I'm staying for good and he said okay go help your sister with the wheelbarrow, the doctor had said hallucinations were normal at this point.

however on the Saturday he really perked up he had some breakfast he recognised my mum and sister but he was so snappy to me. He was really nice to those but I felt like he hated me for making him go there.

that afternoon when my mum and sisters went home he went to sleep but his body was still jolting, the doctor came and I was in such a denial state that I said to her " he's really perked up today does that mean he may be able to have th treat,ent after all" 

she explained that the body jolting was his organs shutting down and that they were going to put a driver in him and he would go to sleep then eventually die.

i was devastated but I held his hand and the last thing he did was squeeze my hand and he laughed. He then went to sleep.

On the Sunday family came and he just slept, I fell asleep that night to the sound of his heavy breathing.

i woke the next morning and he was still with us but I noticed his sheets had blood on them by his feet, I ripped the sheets back to find his swollen foot was black and bloody. The nurses explained that all his cells were fighting to keep him breathing. 

That day again was filled with family, I felt like he could hear us because he was moving his eyebrows and his mouth, then everyone but one uncle left and my cousin was bring my little sister up. Everyone had told me maybe he's waiting for me to leave before he go s so I said to him I was going to pop out and that I loved him. I went for 10 minutes but he was still alive when I got back. My uncle said he was going to go to the toilet and get something to eat.

as I am holding onto my dads hand I said to him that he's had hell of a day and that my sister was coming I know he wouldn't want her seeing him like that so if he wants to rest he can. Then he took a deep breath and I thought that was it I called the nurse and she came in and he took one more breath and then his hand felt like it let go of mine.

its been almost 3 weeks, at first I was angry with everyone, th doctor that didn't take him seriously to the way other people were dealing with it. I hardly cried I was numb, we had his funeral and again I hardly cried. I was full of flu a few days after the funeral and I slept a lot but again nothing but the last two days it's like it's really hit me and I feel so alone. I forget he's gone then go to ring him to then remember. When I close my eyes I can see his last breaths I can hear them. 

I just dont don't know how to do this without him.