(no subject)
Ages since ive written in this, had too much going on, too many things in my head
My dads been ill, he's been on morphine, its made him very poorly, and hes still getting a lot of pain anyway, i dont think its even making any difference to be honest, or maybe im just a complete idiot, and the pain is so fucking terrible in the first place thet morphine just dulls it slightly, i really dont know
Two weeks ago he passed out right in front of me, it had happened before but id never seen it happen, i thought he was having a stroke, it terrified me more than i can ever explain. I walked into the kitchen, he looked straight at me, then slid off the side of his chair, badly hurt his arm, banged his head, later that night they had to take him to hospital, i dont even remember what they said, its all a blur
Last week my uncle was staying, my dad was very sick all week, my mum kept asking him if he thought he had an infection in his lungs "what colour is what you're coughing up?", "white, its normal, im fine", well, he wasnt fine, my uncle saw him coughing up green shit, god knows how long it had been happening, but if he'd left it much longer it would have been so serious, probably turned into phnumonia or something else equally as scary, but hes so fucking stubborn, even when they found out what he was coughing up he refused to go to the hospital, they took him anyway, he was so annoyed that they'd taken him that he completely ignored my mum the day after when they went to pick him up
The night before that happened i heard hy mum and uncle talking, not that i have a habbit of listening in on peoples conversations, but she'd had a drink and was pretty far gone, she was shouting and crying, would have been hard not to hear her a mile away. She said to my uncle that she didnt think my dad will make it til christmas, she said she thought he knew that he wouldnt, and my uncle agreed with her. i cut myself that night
I think by then i had the idea in my head that my dad has given up, the fact that he refused to go to the hospital, hes in so much pain now, i think he just doesnt want to be here anymore
On thursday night when i was going to bed i walked past his room and heard him yell out "help", he was lying in bed, couldnt breathe, his eyes were red and bloodshot and open really wide, he was terrified, hed gone to bed without his inhaler, and he was on his own upstairs, hed sat up and couldnt breathe, so he'd got back into bed and still couldnt breathe and he had a panic attack
The doctors gave him some sort of pills to get the fluid out of his lungs, the way its supposed to work is that you pass it out when you go to the toilet instead, but his heart isnt working properly anymore, so its all just gathered in his legs and his feet, they're so swollen, it looks so painful
And all this time all im thinking is "hes supposed to be in remission, hes supposed to be feeling better, why isnt he feeling better? hes getting worse and worse every single day"
A doctor came round a few days ago, he said my dad needs a home nebulizer, jamie heard them talking, he said the doctor said they wont give him one because my mum and dad both smoke and having a tank full of oxygen in the house is a fire hazard, they're going to give him something else instead, but it wont be as effective
They were at christies today, they got the worst news, the news we've been dreading for a year. The cancer has started growing again, theres nothing they can do and they wont be giving him any more treatment. Theres nothing they can do. Thats it. Game over.
They didnt ask how long he has left, they didnt want to know. I dont know if i want to know or not. I suppose i dont want it hanging over us, hanging over him. I know ive got to enjoy what i have left, but how do i do that? how can i enjoy spending time with my dad knowing that in a few months time he wont be here? I cant get that thought out of my head
I wish this was happening to someone else, I wish it was happening to anyone else, i dont care who, just anyone but us, anyone but my dad. But realistically what use is saying "i wish"? it wont help, prayers wont help, science and medicine wont help, all the money in the world wont help, my dad will be gone, a piece of me will die with him, and theres fuck all anyone can do about it
I want to scream and shout, i want to, i dont know, punch a wall, punch a person, i want to cut myself to bits with something sharp, but what good will it do? That wont change anything either
I have nothing else to say now, im done
My dads been ill, he's been on morphine, its made him very poorly, and hes still getting a lot of pain anyway, i dont think its even making any difference to be honest, or maybe im just a complete idiot, and the pain is so fucking terrible in the first place thet morphine just dulls it slightly, i really dont know
Two weeks ago he passed out right in front of me, it had happened before but id never seen it happen, i thought he was having a stroke, it terrified me more than i can ever explain. I walked into the kitchen, he looked straight at me, then slid off the side of his chair, badly hurt his arm, banged his head, later that night they had to take him to hospital, i dont even remember what they said, its all a blur
Last week my uncle was staying, my dad was very sick all week, my mum kept asking him if he thought he had an infection in his lungs "what colour is what you're coughing up?", "white, its normal, im fine", well, he wasnt fine, my uncle saw him coughing up green shit, god knows how long it had been happening, but if he'd left it much longer it would have been so serious, probably turned into phnumonia or something else equally as scary, but hes so fucking stubborn, even when they found out what he was coughing up he refused to go to the hospital, they took him anyway, he was so annoyed that they'd taken him that he completely ignored my mum the day after when they went to pick him up
The night before that happened i heard hy mum and uncle talking, not that i have a habbit of listening in on peoples conversations, but she'd had a drink and was pretty far gone, she was shouting and crying, would have been hard not to hear her a mile away. She said to my uncle that she didnt think my dad will make it til christmas, she said she thought he knew that he wouldnt, and my uncle agreed with her. i cut myself that night
I think by then i had the idea in my head that my dad has given up, the fact that he refused to go to the hospital, hes in so much pain now, i think he just doesnt want to be here anymore
On thursday night when i was going to bed i walked past his room and heard him yell out "help", he was lying in bed, couldnt breathe, his eyes were red and bloodshot and open really wide, he was terrified, hed gone to bed without his inhaler, and he was on his own upstairs, hed sat up and couldnt breathe, so he'd got back into bed and still couldnt breathe and he had a panic attack
The doctors gave him some sort of pills to get the fluid out of his lungs, the way its supposed to work is that you pass it out when you go to the toilet instead, but his heart isnt working properly anymore, so its all just gathered in his legs and his feet, they're so swollen, it looks so painful
And all this time all im thinking is "hes supposed to be in remission, hes supposed to be feeling better, why isnt he feeling better? hes getting worse and worse every single day"
A doctor came round a few days ago, he said my dad needs a home nebulizer, jamie heard them talking, he said the doctor said they wont give him one because my mum and dad both smoke and having a tank full of oxygen in the house is a fire hazard, they're going to give him something else instead, but it wont be as effective
They were at christies today, they got the worst news, the news we've been dreading for a year. The cancer has started growing again, theres nothing they can do and they wont be giving him any more treatment. Theres nothing they can do. Thats it. Game over.
They didnt ask how long he has left, they didnt want to know. I dont know if i want to know or not. I suppose i dont want it hanging over us, hanging over him. I know ive got to enjoy what i have left, but how do i do that? how can i enjoy spending time with my dad knowing that in a few months time he wont be here? I cant get that thought out of my head
I wish this was happening to someone else, I wish it was happening to anyone else, i dont care who, just anyone but us, anyone but my dad. But realistically what use is saying "i wish"? it wont help, prayers wont help, science and medicine wont help, all the money in the world wont help, my dad will be gone, a piece of me will die with him, and theres fuck all anyone can do about it
I want to scream and shout, i want to, i dont know, punch a wall, punch a person, i want to cut myself to bits with something sharp, but what good will it do? That wont change anything either
I have nothing else to say now, im done