Dad

Yesterday we went to church. As it was a family service for harvest festival, Dad wasn't mentioned in prayers although Valerie said he had been mentioned at the 8.00 service. Afterwards she gave us a private prayer in the lady chapel.

We went back to Dad's house after the service and started gathering some photos for me to use in the slide show at the wake. We've found some fantastic ones - from when he was very young, from his army days, in his football kit and cricket gear.

I went to visit him last night, on my own. He gave me a lovely smile when I walked in but he was so poorly I couldn't help but cry. I told him how grateful I was for the childhood he and Mum gave me and the rest of us, how they had taught us well and we were now passing it on to our children. He then asked for some water so I gave him a few sips, and as he was so obviously tired I squeezed his hand and told him I loved him, then kissed him goodbye and told him I'd see him tomorrow. He said "thanks love" and I left the room. I spent a while chatting to one of the nurses afterwards. She said he'd seemed much brighter earlier and had even had some porridge for his breakfast.

When the phone started ringing just before 5 I knew what it was going to be. The hospice had called Paul saying that Dad had taken a sudden turn for the worst and they thought he was near the end. I got dressed and drove straight there, arriving before Paul or Sally. One of the nurses met me at the door and said "I'm so sorry, he has passed away".

She had been in to see him earlier as he'd been a bit sick. She was cleaning him up and tutting about it all being in his beard, and he laughed at that. She said there was something about him that wasn't quite right, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She kept checking on him and noticed that his breathing was getting more erratic. Then he started making a groaning sound and she realised it was his time and so she called Paul. She went back into Dad and told him we were on our way, then he took a couple of breaths and he was gone.

I think he chose to go before we got there, as Mum did back in March.

Paul arrived a few minutes after me, and Sally shortly after that. Then we went in to see him. I kissed him on the forehead as I knew I wouldn't want to do it when we left. I'd kissed Mum when she was cold and didn't want to do it this time around, I wanted to remember him warm.

We spent a while just sitting there, with the nurse bringing us cups of tea. Then we went into the family room where we were given leaflets on how to cope with bereavement, and also details of what to do next in a practical sense.

Helen flies back into Heathrow tomorrow morning so we decided not to tell her until then. She has got a long journey home and we didn't want to make it any more difficult for her.

We have arranged the funeral for Tuesday 30th October.

There will be a MacMillan nurse with him the whole time, including in the ambulance, and Paul said he will travel with him as well. This is going to happen on Monday between 11 and 3. There will be no option for him to stay beyond that, no matter how much he pleads. At the moment I can't decide whether to go or not. I think I will find it too unbearable but then again maybe it would be better for Dad to have as much company as possible.

Him and Mum moved in to the house at the beginning of 1960. It was newly built and Mum was heavily pregnant with Paul. There's so many memories within those walls - so many in fact that we have decided to spend Christmas day (and maybe new year's eve) there, all together, for one last hurrah. We'll take sleeping bags and crash for the night. Roger is hoping to get over at some point between Christmas and New Year so he'll be able to say goodbye as well.

Mel said that Dad is obviously very poorly and that although they haven't been able to do much in the way of tests and examinations, it is obvious to them that the cancer is too far advanced for even palliative chemotherapy to have any effect. They still don't have any idea of time but they reassured us that they would keep him at the hospice for as long as possible - they don't automatically discharge patients after three weeks.

I said I would be happy to have him back at our house provided there was a total care package in place beforehand. Dee said not to worry about any of that, they would take care of everything should it come to that. It wasn't a big part of the conversation and I don't imagine he will come out of hospital at all.

He is now catheterised. He feels freezing to the touch but says he is very hot. The window in his room is open and the fan is on.

Sally has been in to see him this afternoon and he seems to have got over the "I'll try" mood and has refused medication again. Sally said to him that she understands he doesn't want to be here but that we will persist in visiting, and it wouldn't hurt him to raise a smile now and then. A few minutes later Isabelle and Yasmin went in to say goodbye to him and he smiled!

So back to square one really. I just hope and pray it won't be long and drawn out, for all our sakes but mostly for his. I am trying to deal with it the same way I dealt with Mum's final illness - by thinking that my Dad went a long time ago, and the guy in the bed is nothing like him both in appearance and character.

Paul and Shirley popped in to see him just after lunch time and he promised them he would try to eat. Then when me & Sally went in at about 4, he asked for milk and biscuits. He also apologised to me

Me and Sally then had a long chat to the nurse who repeated the thought that Dad is suffering from depression first and foremost. She doesn't deny that he's very ill though. We explained to her some of the background so far - the seven weeks spent on a hospital ward with not much in the way of exploratory tests, the fiasco of his discharge from hospital, the rapid deterioration once he was at our house. I also said how I felt bad that he was taking up a hospice bed when there may be people more ill than him who would need it. She said that wasn't an issue, he was due to go in anyway for symptom assessment.

We came away feeling slightly better. At the hospice he will be fully assessed and hopefully there will be a clearer idea of exactly what is wrong with him.

We left a message for Shirley, telling her that there was no point her & Paul visiting later. Paul then called me to find out what was going on and unfortunately things got quite heated. I guess he feels I'm not being very sympathetic but I can't help how I feel. Maybe I'm interpreting the nurse's comments incorrectly but it seems to me that Dad could have a bit longer but he doesn't want to even try, despite having 5 kids and 8 grandchildren who have already suffered one lot of grief this year. I know he is grieving too.

Rachel, one of the hospice nurses, called me last night. We had quite a chat and I told her how I felt. She was lovely, really seemed to understand how I felt. It was so nice of her to take the time to speak to me. She has suggested I take advantage of the counselling offered at the hospice and I think I will take her up on that. Among other things, I feel guilty because it was me who told Dad what the hospital thought was wrong with him, and it seems to me he's lost the will to live since then. So I feel it's my fault that he (and the rest of us) find ourselves in this situation.

Me, Paul and Charlotte went to see him this evening. He managed to say hello to each of us but that was about it. He didn't want the light on in his room. I sat by the bed for a while holding his hand.

Afer a while we went out and had a cup of tea in the lounge. I had a brief chat to the nurse who said they usually need 24 to 48 hours to properly assess new patients, but as far as she could tell the main thing wrong with Dad is depression. They are probably going to offer him steroids tomorrow but I told her he probably wouldn't take them.

I will be going back tomorrow afternoon and intend spending a lot longer there, probably take a book or something.

I'd called Valerie earlier (the vicar of St. Michael's) to give her an update on Dad's condition. She said she would meet me at the hospital at 5, and we said some prayers while holding Dad's hands. Just before starting she asked Dad if it was OK and he nodded, and managed to say "I won't be able to join in". Which of course was fine. It was very moving and I'm so grateful to Valerie for taking the time to do it. After she'd gone I asked Dad if he minded Valerie coming along and he nodded his head.

As we left I asked at the nursing station if they could tell us what the doctors had thought after rounds earlier in the day. The nurse looked at his file and then took us into a side room. She told us that Dad had told them to take the drip out, has refused further blood tests or treatment barring pain medication. So he has definitely given up. They are liaising with St. Luke's Hospice to find a bed and so he will go in as soon as one is available.

They don't know how long it's going to be but it is a matter of weeks rather than months. By the look of him last night it won't be long at all. His blood sugar will fall further so he could fall into a diabetic coma. I just pray that it won't be drawn out, for his sake and ours.

The doctor called the Medical Assessment Unit who agreed to see him so he then called an ambulance. This arrived within 30 minutes (it wasn't an emergency ambulance) and I travelled with him while Paul followed in the car. Unfortunately Dad was sick in the ambulance, so it kind of cancelled out the effect of the caramel. We got to the MAU at about 4pm and sat with him until just after 8. He was seen by the doctor who had admitted him last time which was handy; he was surprised at how much weight Dad has lost. I emphasised to the doctor that we wanted Dad to go onto Orsett Ward, and that the nurse manager at St. Luke's had established that there was a bed there for him.

Yesterday morning Jill from Hospice at Home called to say that Dad had been moved to Orsett Ward overnight which was a relief. Me and Sally went to visit him just after 3 but he wasn't up for talking. In fact he spent most of the time asleep. They have put him on a saline drip which is unfortunately causing his hands to swell up. This is like deja vu as the same thing happened with Mum. At the time they said it was because her organs were shutting down and we're wondering if it's the same for Dad.

We stayed with him for about 40 mins then spoke to the nurse. She asked us where Dad would prefer to die - how surreal to be asked that. We said that if possible it would be at St. Luke's. One of the other nurses on duty was Stuart, who had sat with Mum when she passed away. Deja vu strikes again!

When I got home I called a few people to update them on Dad's condition - Auntie Maureen and Doreen. I haven't called Daphne which is remiss of me, especially as she was due to fly in yesterday afternoon. Must call her tonight.