Waiting

It is horrible waiting for your phone to ring to tell you the worst news possible. The news no one wants to receive. The call to tell you that a loved one has died.

On Friday my (maternal) Na (Grandad) was admitted to hospital having suffered a mild stroke at home that morning, my Nanny managed to get him to their doctors where he then suffered a mild heart attack! On top of all this he had been suffering with shortness of breath for a few days previous to this and when he got to hospital they discovered he had fluid on the lungs. Not a good prognosis for anyone let alone a man in his late 80's.

My Mum, Step Dad and Uncle rushed to Swindon to see him, and my Nanny, in the hospital and Na was in a bad way, which is to be expected. By Saturday he was still not good but was still fighting and was aware of what was going on and who his family were. Due to the stroke, the left side of his face and body is without feeling, and his throat is blocked which the medical staff found out when they tried to give him a drink and he almost choked! As a result his speech is hard to make out. Having seen Mum on Saturday, she was home as my Uncle was at the hospital that day, I had prepared myself for the worse and therefore didn't sleep well Saturday night as I was expecting a phone call. However, no phone call was received and when I spoke to Mum at 10am just as she was setting off to see him, apparently he was stable as the anti biotics were starting to work their 'magic'.

Then while I was at Tesco Sunday afternoon, my Step Dad phoned to tell me that maybe I should go and see him as it could be my last chance. But it was up to me. I wasn't sure what to do. Although I wanted to see him I want sure I wanted my last memories of him to be in pain all wired up to machines. After an hour of thinking it over, I decided I would go because I didn't want him to think that I didn't love him by not seeing him, or that I would always regret not having the chance to say goodbye. So at 4.15pm I set off to Swindon and two and a half hours I arrived where my Step Dad met me and took me up.

My Nanny was so pleased I had arrived as soon as I saw her I knew I had made the right decision to go. Na was sleeping - had been for a couple of hours- and she wanted to wake him to tell him I was there, and despite me telling her not to and to let him rest she did. I held his hand and kissed it and told him I was there. He asked where Jon was and I told him he was at home with the boys. I had to lean right in to understand what he was saying, and had to speak right into his ear as he didn't have his hearing aid in.

Mum was there too and it was decided that my Step Dad would take nanny home and then I would take Mum home when visiting ended at 8pm. I almost cried when my Nanny said goodbye to him, and I heard them tell each other they love each other and Nanny said again how lovely it was for me to have travelled up (all I felt was guilt that I should have arrived sooner!) and that we all loved him and wasn't that reason enough for him to get better?

Na has to wear an oxygen mask which he finds uncomfortable and and he kept trying to remove it and mum had to replace it and tell him he had to wear it. It was hard to see him and my Mum comforting him and telling him she loved him and he had to get better and then he would be home. He seemed ok, I mean he is not but he was able to talk and although I had dreaded seeing him because of how he might look, it actually wasn't as bad. 

Just as visiting time was coming to an end, Mum told him that we had to go. Then he started getting fretful and he told her that he wanted to go home to his bed because he didn't want to be in hospital. He was waving his arm about and asking, well demanding that she take him home. Of course she could't and she told him and he was getting upset and he said that he wished he had died because it was better than being stuck in hospital. Mum found this upsetting, obviously, and she didn't want to leave him like it but the nurses told us to go. He has made it clear a few times since he has been in the hospital that he doesn't want to be there , he doesn't want to die there. 

Anyway, mum and I left and I dropped her off home and got back home myself at 11pm. This morning at 8.30am Mum called to say that Na had been transferred to Intensive Care and she was on her way back up (she was going anyway but not so early). So here I am not really able to relax, phone by my side just waiting now. Maybe today. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe day after that. All I do know is that unless a miracle happens, he isn't going home.

Mum just phoned. He is in a coma now and they have given him morphine and he is all wired up to life saving machines, to try and keep him alive until my uncle arrives as he has to travel down from Manchester. It is now just a matter of time.

I am glad I went to see him now. I didn't say goodbye, I simply told him I love him and he has to fight to get better so he can go home (which I knew was very unlikely). But I feel better for having seen him and to know that he knew I was there. I think he probably knew that he was on his 'way' hence why he wanted to be taken home last night. 

Love you Na xx

*I received the call at 16.34
Na passed away peacefully at 16.20*