After being admitted into hospital during May, as he was unable to eat or drink without vomiting. He hadn’t shit for a week at that time.
Dad was on a fantastic ward in our local hospital. First the consultants believed they could do a Duodenal Stent. To help with the obstruction. The consultants decided that this wasn’t an option as irritation was too large. It was then decided that they would proceed with a Duodenal Bypass.
I can remember my mother saying to me that if all goes well and they manage it laproscopically, he should be back in about 3/4 hours. If they opened him up, it would be 4/5. If they don’t do anything, he’d be back before the 3 hours. Dad left for theatre and was back on the ward within an hour and a half. They made a small incision and used a camera. They saw evidence of spread.
We were told by the consultant that they would not be able to do anything more surgically for my Dad. It was now a case of make him comfortable and wait.
The staff managed to get Dad into a Palliative Care unit that was attached to the hospital. When he got there, the staff were incredible too. Although we were advised that they didn’t believe he had long. In a space of 2 weeks, we went from Months left, to Weeks, to days. Scarily fast.
My mother, sister and I, watched my father deteriorate scarily fast.
How do you cope with the loss? The emptiness? The shit feeling just after waking where you think they are still here then remember they aren’t.
How do you cope with all that when you have a personality disorder?? When you can’t control your emotions? When the one time you want to split, you can’t. When the paranoia seems to runaway with you and you can’t stop the bullshit that is popping up?
I didn’t hate my Dad at the end. I loved him. I couldn’t forgive him but I did love him. Some would find that strange.
So yeah. I’m hiding.