So, I’m sitting here early in the morning, about to have a bath, thinking about what has happened to me in the 7 months I’ve spent at home, after my husband died in my arms on September 15th 2020.
There are far too many ifs and buts and why’s and why nots. I feel like my life is a tangle of unanswered questions. Some will resolve in time, but there are others that I desperately need to get answers to.
These are: why was my husband offered no treatment at all for a very serious form of brain cancer - in the entire world, there are many cancers but there are non that cannot be treated. The implications of that are that, at least, the patient is given hope, whereas my husband spent 3 weeks losing all hope whilst slowly but surely he became paralysed. That was a terrible thing for him and for me to watch. At least I got him home for 12 precious days at the end of his life.
That was awful for me, because for the last few days I had to guess what he wanted. I went to sleep at 10pm, got up at 2pm to check if he was OK, and then I’d have to struggle to understand whether he wanted eye drops or ice to suck, because ‘eyes’ sounded the same as ‘ice’ when he said it. I got that feeling you get when you are trying to nurse someone - I’d been a nurse during my time at uni - and you feel a wave of frustration and anger at the patient, but as that happened I realised that I could feel neither for the man I adored more than I’d ever thought would be possible.
In that instant, I forgave him for all the rows we’d had, the rows over silly things, the arguments over serious things, the disagreements about money, his decision to buy a large house that we both regretted months after moving in…
But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive the NHS, because they let his life leak away for 3 weeks, as they fumbled and stumbled and forgot somehow to care care of their patient - my husband, my beloved soul mate. He needed hope, they wouldn’t even give him that. We asked for palliative care, the ward registrar said she’d do it now, but she forgot.
Oh, dear. It’s not a nice predicament to be in.
Take care and blessing to all of you in the same predicament.