Friday 9 September 2011

Already down, Life just loves to kick you again.

As if things were not bad enough trying to cope with the day to day struggles of being a 24hr carer of a very sick husband, I get word this week that my father has terminal lung cancer. Also that my brother who lives with him has been made redundant.

My father being ex RAF is coping quite well with the news and says as long as they control the pain he will be fine. I am left wondering if his service in the RAF is somewhat to blame as he and his colleagues were on the Christmas Islands during the atomic tests of the early 60's, told to have their shirts on and turn their backs to the blasts as the bombs imploded under water.He has a number of photographs of mushroom clouds in his collection. So that along with his heavy smoking which he gave up 6 years ago, means that he will die gasping for breath as his father who died of emphysema did before him.

With treatment they say he has 10 months left at the most. So I hope I will get stuff sorted here sufficiently so that I can spend some time with him before he passes.

News on the home front is about the same, Hubby should really be in hospital right now as he is so ill but every one in the medical profession shrugs their responsibility, saying if it gets too bad go to A&E. We seriously considered it last Friday as he was in so much pain and his breathing when sat upright is very poor. Then we thought it through, we would have to sit in A&E for up to 6 hrs while they decide to admit him or not. I would have to constantly tip him back in his wheelchair to maintain his breathing and blood pressure as putting him on one of their trolleys would be dangerous as there would be no way to control his spasming legs on such a narrow  bed.Then who at our local hospital would be qualified to help him, we have seen the pain specialists before they were useless and there seems to be no oral medicine he can tolerate to ease his spasticity short term. So we decided to make a 'hobsons' choice and stick it out at home as long as we can.

Monday I will have to get him across to Addenbrookes an hour away to see the consultant surgeon and ward manager. I am kind of hoping they open their eyes to how sick he is and admit him pending his operation on the 20th. But no doubt I will be left to struggle on as usual, because they don't give a shit about the holistic well being of their patients or those who care for them.

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