Back home again

I came home on Thursday afternoon in an ambulance with two lovely ladies who made it a nice comfortable ride. My hospital bed was waiting for me all set up in our living room in front of the window where I can see the flowering cherry and the summerhouse. It's really pretty that tree. My brother Rod had flown in from Japan during the week and he followed us home and helped settle me in along with my mother-in-law and my auntie Claire who has come over from Kent to help care for me.

It's nice to be home out of hospital back into your own home, even though the drugs make me unable to recognise it at times. I feel tired, that's all I ever seem to say.

It's taken 2 days to write those two paragraphs. Its getting harder for him to concentrate on the job at hand and he spends a lot of the time confused about where he is and whats happening to his body.

Vic is unable to walk, stand or even sit in a wheelchair so sadly he hasn't been able to go into his beloved Summer house which seems so cruel. What also seems cruel is he sometimes doesn't even know it's his. All this confusion is bought about by the sheer volume of pain killers and sedatives he is having to take for the pain. When cancer spreads to your bones it is incredibly painful, pain that we just can't measure and pain we would all gladly bear for him if we could.

All the time his pain increases the pain killers go up the sedation goes up the level of clarity decreases. It's so sad to see such an amazing human being slowly robbed of basic faculties and function. Sometimes he gets sad about it and cries other times he's happily oblivious to it all.

Its been very special being able to have him home, free from other patients, nurses coming in and out and very horrible food. The good thing is Vic knows he likes food so we are able to keep some meat on his bones even though his legs are wasting at a shocking rate due to the lack of movement.

The thing that amazes me about Vic, although I don't know why I'm amazed because it's typical of Vic, he says thank you about 1000 times a day and I'm so lucky. I feel we are both lucky to have my mother here who has been brilliant, which is a word that no-where near covers it, if it wasn't for her and I really mean if it wasn't for her Vic would have spent the rest of his life in either the Hospital or the Hospice. We have scared the district nurses half to death with the level dosages of drugs being put into his syringe driver and our GP who is sitting with Vic as I write is obviously very lost for words. Our rural location means we can't have the hospice at home and makes it difficult to have the nursing care needed to help someone as sick and in pain as Vic is. So therefore if my mother wasn't on hand 24 hours a day (she moved in with us) it just wouldn't be possible.

Vic knows he loves his home, he loves the view from the window, the birds go back and forth to the nuts hanging in the blossom tree and he takes it all in. Most of the time he's quite content to be lucky to be alive otherwise he has a few minutes of self pity and anger over what has happened.

For the 5th time today mum is just reminding Vic he can't get out of bed. He has lapses of memory and tries to get out of bed and walk to the toilet he now has a 24 hour armed guard!

I know Vic would want to say thanks to my mum and especially my auntie Claire who has also moved down to stay and look after Vic. He is washed, bed changed, clothes changed, clothes washed, fed, stroked, talked to, encouraged, petted, kissed, hugged. Without all these kind people I don't know what we would have done. In Vic's words we are so lucky.

Thanks for all the lovely messages left on the previous entry, they are lovely and make him feel so loved and cared for and also thanks to all those who have been able to drop in and visit.