The End of the Road?

 It greives me to report that My Good Lady was taken into the local hospice to recieve End of Life care. I will, of course, keep her readers updated on her situation, but I firmly believe that the end is not far off.

She is no longer able to swallow, not even liquids. Her vocal cords are so badly damaged that she is unable to speak in anything above a whisper, and her words are so slurred as to be almost incomprehensible. She has long since lost the use of her legs, and as a result she is totally bedbound.

The only positive thing is that she is out of pain and is resting comfortably.

As for me, I'm as well as can be expected under the circumstances I suppose. I get a lot of support from neighbours, friends and family which is very welcome. However I miss My Good Lady dreadfully, as you can imagine, after 46 years of marriage. It's as if there's now a hole in the centre of me, which nothing seems able to fill.

I will report back as and when there is further news.

The Oxcliffe Fox

Chaotic morning

What a chaotic morning.

 

Our cleaner came as usual. I had to tell her my news & prognosis.

 

Then the “End of Life” team came to make an assessment of our needs. Apparently, getting up in the morning isn’t until 9.30-10am, a bit late for me. I’d already made the strenuous effort, with the Fox’s help, to get up nearer 6.30am.

 

However, in future they should getting me up, breakfasting. In future I should get the odd bed bath so the dressings shouldn’t get so wet. They will also change sheets, do the washing & hang it up to dry. That will help. They’ll also help with putting me to bed. They don’t do ironing but our cleaner is happy to help with that.

 

Next came the district nurses to change my dressings. The one who came today only saw m a few days ago, but had to admit I was already looking more tired, weaker. We’re both coming to the conclusion you can see the reduction in my strength almost daily now.

 

It doesn’t help that I’m losing my appetite now. The last couple of meals I haven’t been able to polish off entirely but it is not because of the quality of the Fox’s culinary efforts. It’s just my appetite, mixed with my excessive tiredness. It is increasingly looking like the oncologist may not be so far of in the estimate of my remaining time. This last week I’ve lost best part of half a stone in weight – not a good sign.

 

 

 

 

One way or another

In January I mentioned to a friend my urge to see Chatsworth. The family was planning a champagne picnic in the grounds. However, it is increasingly looking like I will not physically make it. To go that distance would necessitate a few overnight stays – t would just be too tiring otherwise - in a comfy hotel but they aren’t due to open until mid-May at the earliest.

 

However, others are determined I should be able to visit Chatsworth in my imagination. When the hospice lady came this week, she came bearing a belated birthday present – a jigsaw of Chatsworth. On top of which I can enjoy my brochure. Folk are determined I’ll get there one way or another. And all done with love. It is much appreciated.

 

Still here with a few changes

Well, I’m still here.

 

One conclusion I’ve come to is that it’s not worth my while buying much by way of fresh food from now on, except top ups. Instead the Fox is in charge of cooking. And I will try to use up some of the stuff in the freezer.  I have difficulty imagining what the Fox is going to do with all the little bags of leftovers etc. And so today there’s a turkey curry plopping away for tonight.