My dad and oesophageal cancer..

For reference I lived in a cloud, I didn’t not google the cancer, I did no research as I didn’t want to know.  
So only read if you want to understand the full story -

It was January 2018 my dad visiting our house sitting on the sofa, saying he had a pain in his left hand side of his chest.  My dad never complained of pain, he also complained about some pains in his shoulder too.  Its funny but thinking back I actually thought this is bad to myself, but then trying to convince myself it wasn’t the C - We all said don’t worry it must be an ulcer, he went to the doctors who prescribed antibiotics.  Even the blood tests showed some signs of infection too, the doctor said the pains his his shoulder was related and was something separate.  Feb passed and nothing was getting better, towards the end of February we had enough, I booked an appointment with a private doctor in a private hospital I remember it only cost approx. £150.  The doctor immediate told him it could be serious and he needed a camera down his throat (he must have known thre and then).  I remember my dad telling me that his private doctor said we can do the procedure but it will cost £750, my dad being tight hesitated, luckily the doctor said to him, don’t worry wait for my call. Sure enough a day or two later the doctor called and fast tracked a NHS camera for him.  This was at the end of February, beginning of March.  The scan happened, and on the scan they found it, a small tumour, I remember the piece of paper with his pen with a circle on it where the tumour was.  The immediately told him it was Cancer of the oesophagus.   
It was about 5 days before St Patrick day, my dad always travelled to Lanzarote with his mates for Paddy’s day, and I was driving round to meet him to give him the booking details (I used to spend hours booking the trips for him) I remember seeing that piece of paper saying, don’t worry they can cut it out, only me and my brother knew that that point my sister and mum didn’t know anything.  We convinced him not to go on that holiday, which I do regret now-

Appointment was booked for the scan, his appointment was always on a Friday, I used to get into work early so I could leave early those days and I used to walk the 4 miles home and clear the head.  The first appoitnment went on late and I called him about 5pm and he said its good news, the cancer hadn’t spread It was like the door opened and let oxygen into the room, as I know the chances are better.  But… I knew he had pains, and really deep down I knew it had spread, but what do I know – I’m not a doctor!

Second scan was booked, and then came the news, it had spread and was terminal, I remember the phone call – he said he didn’t want to know, he left my brother in the room with the doctor. He said he was going to the pub.  

My dad was a fit manual worker, healthy 64 year old man, drank a bit too much maybe, and smoked now and again -but overall fit..

Never in a million years would I believe my dad would have terminal cancer never, never, never.

My mum at this point knew about the cancer but not terminal, he didn’t tell her or my sister the severity either.  Our lives were shattered our dad was our super human rock, the angel at the top of the tree, the ion that looked after his cubs, he was the nicest most genuine man you would ever meet.
 
He booked himself in for chemo, at this stage he still had pain and was trying to manage the pain with meds.  Chemo was booked for April, the first day he had it, he said it was fine, I went in the next morning before work at 7am, and it was normal he was dressed and ready just about to walk out the door for work, he loved his work, he loved digging a hole and connecting up a service for gas.   His chemo went on every 3 weeks, second bout was near June, and I remember on my birthday in the begining of June going out for a meal, he felt drained, but he was a strong man and muscled on. My dad had a cyst on his back that got infected.. They stopped the chemo, I feel this is where it went downhill.  Problems with doctors and whether they remove the cyst caused delays, the first sign for me of the decline was when we met him early July, he came out to the car and his voice started crackling, it was becoming horse. The fear stared hitting us all that this was now real, it was obviously growing. August passed September he got worse, eating food was slowing he couldn’t eat or swallow, he left it days before he had to go to A&E end of September beginning of October he just had some chemo, but swallowing had stopped, attended hospital nightmare in A&E but eventually they got him through to the system and they put in a stent, it opened up his throat and thank god he could eat again, he had lost so much weight so this small miracle bought us some time, he started eating high fat high calories anything, he loved Mc Flurrys, I used to get them delivered every night for him.  Mid October he got bad, he had a temperature and a cough like no other cough I have ever seen, he could not stop coughing – The local hospice care team suggested he go in to the hospice for some rest bite. October 30^th he went in, the next day was a Thursday, my sister called and said daddy sounds really bad (she knew everything by now) so I ran out of work and went straight there, he was in a bad way, they told us all sorts, but ultimately he had and infection they rushed him to A&E we thought that was it and the family was called. He got moved to a room, me and my sister stayed overnight with him they pumped him full of antibiotics, at 5am he woke up normal (his normal not our normal) I got him tea and a yogurt, God gave us some more time with him.  I remember making a video to send to his brothers and sister, he said, hello everyone I’m back from the dead, just drinking my tea, I love you call.. Anyway he spent a week in hospital and I picked him up the following Friday. He was home, his cough he still had (not as bad) he constantly brought up mucus, but he was eating small bits again and he had good days and bad days, I visited him almost every morning, and every night and some lunch times. He said in the hospital ill be happy if I make Christmas.

Nov went and December too, again cough, mucus, nebuliser etc etc. He lost weight and got weaker and weaker. December 23^rd when I popped in he was shaving saving he felt good (his good was not great but was good) so Christmas came along, we all cooked and brought the food to have with my mum and dad it was lovely day, and one we will cherish for ever.  New year passed and on January 2^nd he couldn’t swallow or eat again, we called an ambulance and he was admitted to A&E it was a terrible night his pain was not managed, my heart was breaking, I waited with him and went to the room with him, doctors came in and he was so weak, they tried another stent within a stent and we thought this would be another life line, but the cancer had eaten up most of his swallowing mussels and food wasn’t going down properly he was going into his lungs.  From that day he didn’t swallow anything further they put in a feeding tube for him. We stayed with him every night took it in turns, the mucus build ups were awful.  He begged us to die towards the end and on January 14^th 2019 my beloved father passed away at 2pm.