Sorry for this long message, but context is important. Thank you in advance for reading this, and thank you for any perspectives and insights you may have to offer.
My Dad died seven weeks ago. He went into hospital after being bedbound at home for a couple of weeks. He was waiting for a cardiology appointment, so we put his growing tiredness and weakness down to his heart problem, and anticipated he would soon get treatment. We tried to get it moved forward, but we could never convince the cardiology department of the urgency and only ever had a few phone calls. Then, one day, we found Dad in severe pain and I called an ambulance and accompanied him to A&E. He was admitted, where they discovered he had lung cancer! But he was never moved to oncology because of a series of incompetent and avoidable mistakes, and finally died on the ward of pneumonia, four weeks later. He lost his voice after two weeks, so even when we began to realise this was the end, we couldnāt talk to him and he couldnāt talk to us. And through it all, the hospital kept promising they would discharge him and continue treatment as an outpatient! It was like they were blind to the reality of his situation, and because of that, they continually poisoned our thinking with this false hope, that made us question the evidence of our own eyes.
After two to three weeks, my Mum asked about hospice care. Her suggestion was rejected. On the night he died, Mum asked again, hoping he had time to get out of that place and into more comfortable care. āLetās see how he is in the morningā was the reply. He was dead before the morning shift arrived. We were with him until the end, mostly on our own, occassionally attended by staff who seemed convinced he would get over it and recover in the morning. It was difficult, traumatic, heart-breaking and I still see it clearly in front of my eyes. I think we all have a form of PTSD from it. We were in shock for days, afterwards and cannot process it, even now.
I keep wanting to time travel back to March and do it all again, but better. To be more pushy, to get PALS involved or legal services, to camp outside the consultantās office door until he agrees to talk to me directly, instead of only turning up outside of visiting hours and talking briefly to Dad, who was horribly sleep deprived from the noise and chaos of the ward and couldnāt remember anything.
I have a fantasy that if I could just get him up to the oncology ward, he might have had better care. But I spoke to someone who said they had achieved this, only to find that the standard of care on the oncology ward was no better than on the general medical ward!
So, I have a couple of questions that will hopefully help give me perspective on all this. These questions are for people who have succeeded in getting their loved ones into hospice care of some kind.
- Did it make a difference to how your loved one ended their life? Was it easier, more comfortable, less painful? Was the care better than what they might have had if theyād stayed in hospital?
- Did the experience of hospice care help you to avoid any symptoms of trauma or guilt or other problems, such as the oneās Iāve mentioned, which have made the whole experience so much worse for us, the survivors? Has it helped you deal with the aftermath, with carrying on living, with coming to terms with what has happened?
Thank you for your answers.