Hi,

I am so sorry for your loss, my mum died September 2018 from blood cancer. I like you have and continue to find it difficult to try and get past the final weeks. My mum's last word ( she barely spoke due to also having Alzheimers) was "please" and it haunts me as I don't know really what she was trying to say, we think she was saying to leave her to go, she had had enough; the endless blood transfusions and medication, she hated having them. Mum had a strong faith and had no fear of death, not sure I would have been the same. Mum's illness, she wasted away, barely 5 and a half stone and no strengh at all. Mum also had nuropathy for a number of years, with everything, the last 4 years were so difficult, my father was her and our rock.

The thing is, nobody talks about death or dying and to see someone you love so dearly literally waste away and suffer the indignities that come with the condition just breaks you. The truth is, it shocks you to your core.

My mum was 82, older I am guessing than your mum would have been, age doesn't really come into it, any age is too soon. I can only try and understand how awful it must have been for you and your family, you do think about if our mum's would have been scared and the whole feeling of helplessness is so hard to bear. I am sure you would have been a great strength and comfort to your mum, especially in those final weeks.

Life is so cruel and and unfair sometimes; I try and think that my mum is at peace now, no transfusions, no cancer, her spirit is free and always with us. There were more years of happier memories and I do believe in time...and there are no set rules with time, that we won't forget the final weeks but the pain will lessen and we will find a way of accepting that our beautiful mum's are not  physically with us but will always be part of us. 

We don't have children but wonderful neices and great neices and great nephew, that's my mum's legacy, she lives in all of us and we talk about her always, in happier times. I know it's so very hard but try and think about the happier memories and not dwell on the sad times, I am sure your mum wouldn't want you to be so sad and I do hope that in time, it will become easier.

As you can probably tell from my post and me coming onto this site to find comfort and understanding, I am not quite there yet, the stage of acceptance but I am trying and mum is looking down on me and as she always used to say "don't worry"

Take care,

x

Hi there,

I just wanted to say that I know how you feel. My mum passed away 6 weeks ago now. She didn't want to die, she wanted to live. Only the week before she passed she bought new shoes for when her mobility improved. Infact she was also doing physio to help build up her strength. Everything just happened so quickly. The last week she seemed to fade away from us but she fought so hard not to go but her body gave up.

She was transferred to a hospice and thank God she was only there 12 hours. She was in terrible pain there as once the pain meds had emptied it took 90mins to refill. I was physically having to restrain mum whilst she was so distressed whilst at the same time she was screaming in pain. I cannot get these images out of my head.

Why did my lovely mum have to go through that. I just wanted to talk to her and confort her. I'm not sure how to cope with this.

I feel the same. 

I lost my Dad on the 24th March. He was diagnosed with bowel cancer in October that had spread to his liver and stomach. I watched my poor father crying his heart out that he didn’t want to die and it breaks my heart thinking back to it. From October to January was mental torture for him, physically not a thing wrong with him on the outside but the terror of what was going through his mind. Chemo not working or slightly slowing down the cancer, watching the tears in his eyes with each piece of negative news given to him. 

From January to March increasing physical torture. Cancer spreads to his spine, watching my hero sobbing in a pub in front of his friends. Literally watching my Dad, wasting away infront of me, a man who loved simple things in life like long walks having to shuffle about the house, catching himself passing mirrors as his colour changed. 

Giving him his present on Christmas Day trying to keep himself composed terriefied of what was going through his mind never mind our own. 

Having to listen to my Dad saying he was going out because he couldn’t sit and think about dying all day horrifies me and totally breaks my heart. 

Then the last few weeks of his life, his pain becoming unbearable. Awake nearly every hour under the sun writhing about in agony, having to be helped into scalding hot baths at 4,5 in the morning just to ease his pain because the literally roasting water must have numbed his senses. 

Watching his pain become so intense that he had to get a morphine drive put in. Nurses coming in while his body was just functioning saying, “there’s not a lot we can do once it’s in the bones” and this fills me with fear that my dad could hear this while lying there unable to do anything. The man I love couldn’t even muster the strength to go to the toilet. None of the medication even working to ease his pain. My poor dad reduced to a machine, almost three straight days of just sheer breathing at a rate of 40 odd breathes a minute. I can’t get those images out of my head. Watching my Dad draw his last breathe, after hours of chain-stock breathing I can’t get out of my head. Watching him just now lying there these images terrify me. 

I cannot get these thoughts out of my head. I don’t think I can even begin to comprehend the fact that my Dad isn’t here anymore and I definitely cannot deal with the level of suffering he had to endure. I take no comfort in the fact that he isn’t suffering anymore because he isn’t here. This is despite the strong faith my family and I have.

My Dad didn’t want to die, 57 isn’t fair. I cannot comprehend my Dad’s suffering and I think to myself that is nothing in comparison to the fact that he had to live it/endure it. I can’t cope with this.

Any support would be greatly appreciated.