Back in November 21 my Dad collapsed and was taken to hospital having had a suspected TIA (due to 2 previous TIAs and a blocked carotid artery). Dad was soon diagnosed that this collapse was a seizure caused by brain metastasis lesions. It was explained to us the metastasis lesions were secondary cancer coming from a primary tumour elsewhere. So a full body scan was completed and showed Dads primary tumour to be in his lung. The diagnosis was utterly devastating, as was the weeks waiting for scan results and a subsequent biopsy that determined Dads lung cancer as SCLC, which then followed diagnosis of his cancer to be incurable. Dad bravely agreed to a weeks intensive radiotherapy targeting his brain, which began in late December.
The deterioration in my Dad post radiotherapy was shocking, my once activity, even tempered, pin sharp, intelligent, witty Dad became a frail, confused and hostile cancer patient and from here on we had already lost our Dad in so many ways. Dad battled on with his first chemotherapy infusion a couple of days after radiotherapy, his poor body was wracked with treatment and he further became more confused, completely unsteady on his feet and quite hostile at times.
From here my Dad became extremely weak, and began refusing food or drink, taking his medication and his low mood was utterly heartbreaking. Dads 2nd chemotherapy infusion was delayed due to his blood work showing issues. He was admitted into hospital to be rehydrated, came home just for his deterioration to continue at pace, once again Dad was admitted into hospital and placed on a drip. This was just over two weeks ago and a meeting with Dads oncologist gave us the shattering news that no more treatment would be given to Dad, his body just couldn't cope with anymore, and we have 4/6 weeks left with him.
Dad has in the past week been taken into a hospice, due to the intense low mood, hostility, weakness and agitation which was so extremely difficult to manage at home. My sister, step mum and I are visiting Dad daily at the hospice but we probably only get 10 minutes maybe with him, as he lays with his eyes closed before he asking us to leave. If only we could sit quietly with him, hold his hand, play his favourite music to him, but he just doesn't want anyone around him, no noise, no food, no drink. I'm absolutely at a loss as what to do as I desperately want to spend as much precious time with Dad, but equally I need to respect his wishes, respect his dignity and if only I have a few minutes with him, to tell him how much he is loved, then I must be grateful for this opportunity whilst he is still with us.
This is simply the most traumatic experience of my life, I've been grieving my Dad since his treatment began, and now he's slipping away without us being by his side.
