Again
So, my uncle is dying.
I have to talk about this here because I need to talk about it but BBH is with her family and in mine, well, my mum is much worse off than I am. So I'm talking here because gods know it's not doing any good festering away in my head.
He's my mother's younger brother - middle sibling of five - and he was diagnosed with a brain tumour a year ago. His wife is still taking drugs to deal with her own breast cancer. At first, we were hopeful. Treatment promised to unpleasant but it had been caught relatively early and with medical advances, we believed he had an excellent chance of a practically full recovery.
Over the last year, it's become more and more obvious that he's not going to be one of the lucky majority.
I need to take a minute to talk about my uncle - he was a lean, tall man with bony wrists and a pointy nose who wore glasses and was always smiling or giving the impression that any second he was going to smile. He was a proud Clare supporter, a hurling spectator who never lost a moment to talk up his beloved county. He supported Leinster in Rugby and was a strong proponent of BOD and adored Ross O'Carroll-Kelly. He had a biting, sarcastic sense of humour that he was never mean about - he delighted in having people argue back and a passionate debate with sarcasm and hyperbole was his single greatest pleasure. He was very like my brother - it was a family joke that he if he had left a family gathering with my brother, the Guards would never have believed he wasn't my brother's actual father. He wasn't a very demonstrative man but he he gave you his full attention and always seemed genuinely happy to see everyone who came in.
I haven't seen him over this year. At first, this was because I was deeply mired in depression and I didn't want to burden him with that while he was doing chemo. He was having some serious problems with side-effects and the decision was made by Mum and his wife that he wouldn't have too many visitors. Over time, the reasons changed. The tumour is in the left hand side of his brain and his short term memory and language skills began to deteriorate. His brothers and sisters still visited but it was agreed that nephews and nieces wouldn't. Mum had already guessed that the signs were bad and she wanted very much for us to keep the memory of him as he was in his healthiest days clear.
He's had to go into hospital because the pain medication stopped working and an MRI yesterday discovered a second tumour. In addition, they suspect that he has a blood clot in his lungs. Doctors no longer believed that he is going to leave the hospital but his heart is still strong enough that they think he could last for some time but today, they are starting to move towards end-of-life care. He will be made as comfortable as possible and Mum has gone to see him.
BBH and I are going back to the UK tomorrow. I have a sinking feeling that I'll be coming back sooner than any of us would have liked. A part of me is still hoping and another part wants to hide away until it's over. I want to be able to do something but all we can do is wait and hope and wait some more.
Originally posted here Please comment there using OpenID.
I have to talk about this here because I need to talk about it but BBH is with her family and in mine, well, my mum is much worse off than I am. So I'm talking here because gods know it's not doing any good festering away in my head.
He's my mother's younger brother - middle sibling of five - and he was diagnosed with a brain tumour a year ago. His wife is still taking drugs to deal with her own breast cancer. At first, we were hopeful. Treatment promised to unpleasant but it had been caught relatively early and with medical advances, we believed he had an excellent chance of a practically full recovery.
Over the last year, it's become more and more obvious that he's not going to be one of the lucky majority.
I need to take a minute to talk about my uncle - he was a lean, tall man with bony wrists and a pointy nose who wore glasses and was always smiling or giving the impression that any second he was going to smile. He was a proud Clare supporter, a hurling spectator who never lost a moment to talk up his beloved county. He supported Leinster in Rugby and was a strong proponent of BOD and adored Ross O'Carroll-Kelly. He had a biting, sarcastic sense of humour that he was never mean about - he delighted in having people argue back and a passionate debate with sarcasm and hyperbole was his single greatest pleasure. He was very like my brother - it was a family joke that he if he had left a family gathering with my brother, the Guards would never have believed he wasn't my brother's actual father. He wasn't a very demonstrative man but he he gave you his full attention and always seemed genuinely happy to see everyone who came in.
I haven't seen him over this year. At first, this was because I was deeply mired in depression and I didn't want to burden him with that while he was doing chemo. He was having some serious problems with side-effects and the decision was made by Mum and his wife that he wouldn't have too many visitors. Over time, the reasons changed. The tumour is in the left hand side of his brain and his short term memory and language skills began to deteriorate. His brothers and sisters still visited but it was agreed that nephews and nieces wouldn't. Mum had already guessed that the signs were bad and she wanted very much for us to keep the memory of him as he was in his healthiest days clear.
He's had to go into hospital because the pain medication stopped working and an MRI yesterday discovered a second tumour. In addition, they suspect that he has a blood clot in his lungs. Doctors no longer believed that he is going to leave the hospital but his heart is still strong enough that they think he could last for some time but today, they are starting to move towards end-of-life care. He will be made as comfortable as possible and Mum has gone to see him.
BBH and I are going back to the UK tomorrow. I have a sinking feeling that I'll be coming back sooner than any of us would have liked. A part of me is still hoping and another part wants to hide away until it's over. I want to be able to do something but all we can do is wait and hope and wait some more.
Originally posted here Please comment there using OpenID.