A year ago my grandad was diagnosed with terminal cancer which couldn’t be treated and was given 6-9 months to live.  So 12 months later we have been feeling so blessed that he’s still with us and relatively fit and healthy caring for my Nan & muddling through. 

On Monday he became unwell and on Thursday he deteriorated. Yesterday lunchtime the distric nurse set him up with the syringe driver with the usual end of life medication. I arrived just before and was with him for about 2 hours. He said goodbye to me. It broke my heart and my husband and I drove the 2 hour journey  home expecting a phone call from my mum during the night. He’s still here this morning. He’s being moved to a hospice where they will continue the palliative care. My mum is trying to tell me he may be in there for a few days, get his medication sorted and he could go home(!?) but I think she’s lying to herself.  

Im trying to hold it together with my two small children it I can’t function. I drove up the M1 the wrong way today and bought weird stuff from the shops id never  buy. In fact I barely remember buying them. I’m short tempered with my 3 year old. My heart is breaking for my Nan who has dementia and is heartbroken that he’s leaving her to go to the hospice. 

My my grandparents were second parents to me growing up ... I spent so much time with them. My grandad introduced me to the nurse yesterday as his ‘might as well be my daughter’ and told me some beautiful things. Im not really asking anything, I just needed to write it down, through tears, so it probably doesn’t make much sense. 

Just grateful of the place to share.