Tuesday, 12 September 2006

What a day. Dad was very calm about surgery. He understood what needed to be done.

Dr M said that there was nothing left to fix. Intestinal failure. As if he had cancer and it had eaten away his insides. Nothing more, medically can be done. They are treating his pain and keeping him comfortable. Before the morphine hit, he thanked me for always being by his side. We told him that we are so proud of him. He said thank you. It is so hard knowing that he is left to die, but his body is very weak from the op. Georgie rang from the plane, talking about 2nd opinions and not giving up. I pray that she can come to terms with this. Lord, please heal my dads pain, and fill his heart with love. Please Lord. I ask in Jesus name. Amen.



Subject: update
Date: Tue, 12 Sep 2006 08:52:26 +0200

doc and his partner are operating this afternoon on my dad to try and fix this problem once and for all. It's back to square one surgery-wise, but we have to do what we have to do. thanks for all the prayers and positive thoughts

x
v


I left work to sit with Dad before the op. I didn't bring the newspaper as I had always done, and Dad wanted one, so I got him the paper. I sat whilst the nurse filled in all the surgery forms and Dad read the paper. He had a new nurse that I hadn't seen before. Looking back, II think that they assigned someone new intentionally, because they knew what the day had in store. The nurse told my Dad that it was rude to read while he had a visitor, and he joked that 'this one likes to talk too much.' He was so brave going in, he understood that this needed to be done.
After he went in, Mom and went and sat by the lifts, thinking that we might miss the Doctor leaving after surgery otherwise. After a few hours we decided that they surely should be done by now and went looking in ICU. As we walked in the sister in charge called us into the office, where Dr M was waiting for us. We asked him how it went and he looked us with slight grimace, which oddly seemed like a smile at the time and said, 'Not good at all.' After further questioning he explained that this was it. There is nothing more that they can do. He can only describe it as intestinal failure, like heart failure. He said that Dad was not doing well under anaestethic.
I stayed calm. I had to phone my sisters and my brother and explain to them what was happening. I was too scared to go see my dad, what do say to someone who is dying? The nurse urged me to go inside. The anaesthetist was busy setting up my dads medication. They already had him on morphine, and one of the side effects is itching. My dad had already almost scratched his nose raw since he came out of surgery.
It made me feel sick inside to see the beautiful pristine dressing over his abdomen. It felt so obscene, knowing that inside he was a complete mess. They just sew you up and leave you to die.
I held dads hand, and spoke to him while he was still conscious.
I spoke to the sister in charge after my sisters had arrived. She said that she thought Dad knew. He had said to her the day before that if anyone comes to visit him even if it wasn't family, that they were to let them in.
We were planning on staying over in the waiting room. Georgie rang from the plane, she was so upset and outraged. She insisted that we were giving up hope too easily and hadn't looked at all the options. That there had to be a way. They would speak to the specialist in the morning.
I couldn't argue back, I understood how helpless they were feeling. But I was there, and I knew what I saw. This was it.
Eventually the nurse came and told us to go home and sleep. She said that Dads heart rate was still very steady and it would be a while before things started to turn. We should rest and be back in the morning.