I lost my dad to coronavirus on 14 April. He was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukaemia in November aged 70 and had been through 3 gruelling rounds of chemotherapy to start recovery and then be hit with this evil virus when he wasn’t strong enough to fight it. Fortunately the hospital staff let him come home to die (he just kept asking to come home) and we nursed him through his last 3 days. His lungs filled with liquid and he died gasping for air. I wish we’d given him more morphine but we were scared it would run out. I then developed the virus but only mild symptoms but I was terrified and had to stay at my mums away from my husband for 2 weeks. My mum and sisters already had it and recovered and my brother didn’t get it. We were very lucky as this virus doesn’t care and doesn’t discriminate.
I am now at home coming to terms with this tragedy. I am starting to feel angry. Why did my dad have to be ill this year of all years? Any other time he might have had a chance. Why did fate decide this for my dad. He was so kind, gentle and trusting. He didn’t deserve it. Were we given the right information in hospital? He was told he wouldn’t be intubated because he was too weak so he decided to come off oxygen and go home to die. What if we had fought for longer in hospital, but ultimately it was his life and his choice and I can’t criticise the NHS. I have lost my dad, my walking and quiz and choir companion. He was only 70 and so fit and healthy before AML landed (his own dad chain smoked and lived to 81). I would give anything for just a few precious more months or years. I would have videoed him playing guitar and talking and telling me about his life. I missed my chance. Sorry dad xxxx