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I don't know whether starting blogging with something like this is the appropriate thing to do or not, but here goes anyway...

I'm just home having rushed away a fortnight ago. I mentioned up in the mature topics forum that the doctors thought my dad had cancer: it turned out they were right. It wasn't in his lung, but in the sac that surrounds it, so they couldn't operate: all they could offer was chemo. Fifteen days ago he went in for his first (as it turned out his only) session. They took him home afterwards, but in the middle of the night mum had to call the ambulance and have him readmitted, and the doctors contacted us and said "we wouldn't want you to have any regrets..." - translation: get the hell down here right away.

Wife and I did just that: we were on a boat that evening and drove through the night to get to get to my parents' house.

I knew Dad hadn't been well for a while - he had a history of heart trouble, and in the last few years the spectre of memory loss and dementia was creeping up on him - but he'd come to England in May and he looked reasonable then. To see the shrunken husk of a body that was left - barely nine stone of him - was awful.

He lingered on until Wednesday morning. The lingering was, in many ways, the hardest thing. The cancer had caused pleurisy, and the loss of lung capacity hit his brain function. There were already indications that his organs were shutting down on Saturday, so what was there to come back to? An existence as a wrecked body, maybe; but not a life the way he'd lived it, full of laughter and music...

And then there was the funeral, of which more later.


  1. DanDanSuperman's Avatar
    Sorry to hear of such troubling times, my thoughts are with you *hugs*
  2. ade's Avatar
    my sincerest condolences.
    the story with lung cancer sounds all too familiar for lots of people. it's a story you don't usually hear until it affects you, personally, and it's one of a very rapid decline from diagnosis.

    even though i'd been with my dad up until his last day (that was the day that i finally broke down and sobbed; up to then, i'd wanted to kill it, kill it, kill it) i didn't want to see his body when he'd passed away - i didn't want the memory of 'that old man', i wanted my dad.
    my sister, though, she felt that she had see him [his body] and made the trip from Spain to do so (a trip she couldn't really afford at the time).

    subsequently, and being more inclined to pay attention, the 'it wasn't my dad, it was some old man' sense seems to be common.
  3. BabyArtie's Avatar

    Thanks - I appreciate the virtual hugs. I did my last visit on the Monday - an Anglican priest who is a friend of the family came and anointed him (as some do) and at that point I knew he was not coming back. Mum and my siblings went again on Tuesday, but I had no more I felt I could say. - the Adult Baby / Diaper Lover / Incontinence Support Community. is designed to be viewed in Firefox, with a resolution of at least 1280 x 1024.