After an 11 month battle with oesophagael cancer, my dad passed away, but it was the pneumonia that got him and that has left a sour taste in my mouth.
He suffered a lot in those months, having had surgery to remove the oesophagael cancer, only to find the cancer had spread slightly but there was hope with chemotherapy. My dad underwent that too for 6 months, and we went to the hospital with a clear mind, believing his overall happiness was an indication of the chemo's success.
Far from it. It turned out the cancer had spread to his liver and was incurable. The only solution left was palliative care.
So we put on a brave face and told him he'll have time with us, time to see his daughter get married, time to spend with his family and friends. We'll give him tons of memories.
But we didn't even get that.
A few weeks before his daughter's wedding, my dad's state had gotten considerably worse. He was sleeping so much, being tired all the time, and had this horrible cough that he just couldn't shake. So we called the ambulance who said it seems like mild pneumonia so with antibiotics, he should be fine.
In the hospital the next morning, he had a cardiac arrest after being starved of oxygen due to the pneumonia affecting his lungs. I held his hand as he took his last breaths, thinking maybe it was the cancer that had got him. And I know that would certainly have had an effect, I'm just aggrieved that it was something else.
I don't know if anyone's suffered a similar case but I'm finding it very hard to cope with this. He was taken so soon and suffered so much with the surgery and chemo. He always put on a brave face and you could tell he was fighting to stay alive in that hospital bed but just couldn't. I've never cried so much in my life.
