I was, and still am literally heartbroken. I got a call from the nurse at 10am of the morning of the 18th to say that my granda had deteriorated from when she was last on shift the day before. He was tachycardic, tachynoepic and pyrexial and was incapable of taking any of his medication that morning. He had been commenced on 5 litres of nasal oxygen. I rushed to the hospice with my Dad and my Aunt... my Mum was in Germany for work.
So we got there pretty swiftly and the curtains were slightly drawn. Behind them lay my beloved Granda, my heart sank into the floor at the sight of him and sound of his heavy laboured breathing- I had never felt a worse feeling in all my life until then. He was so pale and thin which was shocking to us as throughout his rapid illness he had always kept good colour in his cheeks and in life he was a well built man. I cried, a lot. The breathing was, as the nurse told us, more distressing to us than to him. I just wished for my mum to get there asap! We called my other Aunt who was en route to the airport on her way home, to turnaround.
When all my other family got there, all they kept wishing for was for my mum to be there, as she and I had been the ones looking after my Granda- but my mum had done more than anyone. My Granda spoke a few words when he could muster the strength. He asked 'Where is she' when we spoke about my mum not being there. She was due into another city an hour away about 8pm that night.
The moment I really realised was when we were handed the Liverpool Care Pathway leaflet- because I knew what it meant. I threw it out of my hands into my aunt as I coulnd't bare to have it near me, because of its meaning. It was like a spear right through me.
One of the last few words I heard my Granda say was one of the clearest yet, it sounded like him... when I asked if he was sore ( he had not needed any analgesia besides Paracetamol and Ibuprofen throught his illness) he said 'A wee bit' so I rightly observed the upward movement of his legs as a sign of pain when he wasn't able to communicate with us anymore. He got 2mg of Morphine and a syringe driver with some Midaz. He pretty much kept his eyes closed for the remainder of the time.
We deliberated and deliberated whether to call her and tell her about my Granda's deterioration as she may freak out and get really upset, and there was no way she could get home much faster. But in the end I said she would never forgive is if anything happened and we pretended everything was ok. She took it much better than I expected. Her boss rallied round and tried to get an earlier flight but that wasn't possible.
She called a while later to say her flight had been delayed- that awful sinking feeling returned and I prayed for her to make it before anything happened. I reminded my Granda that he had to keep hanging on for her.
She made it, thank god, and arrived at about 10.45pm. The relief was like lifting the lid off a boiling pot for everyone round the bedside. My mum's behaviour followed that of sisters when she first seen my Granda that day... A bright enough hello and then the rapid drop of reality a second later, and the build up of quick flowing tears.
The night carried on, my Granda held on, by 1 or 2 am a few of her sisters, my cousin, dad and my granda's best friend decided to go home and we would call if there was further deterioration.
I wasn't going anywhere, and my mum felt the same as me. I could not have left my Granda's side for anything!! I needed to be there with him. I made a makeshift bed out of two chairs and a makeshift mattress form 2 wheelchair cushions and lay my head on the pillow beside my Granda, cuddling him.
My breathing started to mimic his, occassionally me missing breaths as I wasn't tachypnoeic, but whenever his patterened of breathing changed to become slower or faster, I woke up from whatever piece of light sleep I was in.
This carried on... My Granda made it through the night. Everyone kept telling me to go for this and that and go and have a lie down, 'don't you want to go home for a sleep'. NO NO NO!! I would never get over it if anything happened to my Granda while I was gone- he was my rock in life and I wanted to be one of his. Again my Granda was hanging in there, he held on again through the Sunday night- I had been at his side for 48 hours solid so I noticed every change. The Sunday night was hard. My Granda was quite pyrexial, I got a fan to cool him down which really helped bring his temp down. I started to notice his cheeks, just sat the side of his nose, were losing colour and were cold (the fan was off by then) and I started frequently checking his extremities for temperature and colour changes. I was realising the worst moment of my life was approaching. It was a terrible feeling of not wanting my Granda to suffer and longing for him to stay.
Monday the 20th of June was the day my world ended. Love turned to Pain, a hole appeared that will never be filled.
I savoured every minute I was with him those last 3 days. I memorised his hands, his tattoos from his younger days on his arms. I would do anything to see him again, I want a hug from him so badly, I want to see him pull funny faces and moan at me for being late all the time 'Your late' was his phrase half the time he opened the door to me. Now I wish I was never late, not once, I wish I could save up all that time and have it now :'(
I have always had nightmares about anything happening to my Granda. I used to call after nightmares to make sure he was really ok. So when he died my worst nightmare came true. I wished it was me lying there and not him. I wished it was me struggling to breathe, because without him I feel anything I do is pointless. Who do I have to tell that really cares the way he did. Only he understood my ambition, my passion, because he made me that way, the way he was. He opened my eyes to the big wide world, and gave me opportunities I might not have had. Anything I done was to impress him, make him proud of me, no matter how much for myself I was doing it, it only mattered to me if it gave him pride.
I promised my Granda I will be a Doctor. The hardest days of my life will be the big days he won't be there beside me. If I make it to medical school and graduate, that graduation day will be both the happiest and saddest day of my life.
My Granda
For You Granda...
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