by Tracey Watkins

Created on: February 28, 2009

There we were, dads brother and I, both watching a once fit and healthy bloke, thrusting his body around on the bed in the resusitation ward at our local hospital. Dad was having his worst fit attack he has had frequent, in the matter of few hours. How much more was his body gonna take?and why?Hadn't he been taking his medication?These questions were swarming around in my head, since I popped in to see dad after work, and found him having his first fit since 20yrs, I wanted answers. This was when I got mad at mum (WHO DIED THREE YEAR PREVIOUS FROM CANCER). Why wasn't she here to support me, tell me everything was gonna be alright. There was soon no point hanging around anymore that night, as dad was given sedatives to calm his body, from having anymore.

Next day I went expecting dad to be back to himself, and eagerly awaiting to come home. But soon as I arrived, my uncle was outside,l ooking rather sheepish, as i approached him. "Alright,hows dad day"all of a sudden history repeated itself, as my uncle repeated the words Cancer, brain tumours, not long to live, no hope. My knees gave way beneath me, why? how much more bad news must our family have. As Dads sister died unexpected four months before, then his brother, two months ago. And like I said we lost mum, just three year previous. My head and body felt like lead, as if someone had ran over me with a truck. How the hell was I gonna face dad, knowing this. I could not hide my emotion as he knew that i were not coping well loosing mum.

As I walked in dad lowered his head, then lifted it and pointed to were he has the cancer. That was the biggest lump in my throat, I had ever had to swallow, and act strong for. Didn't know what to say. The next few weeks in hospital were a blur,but I remember my two younger brothers joining me, the nurses mentioning a hospice, in facing dad who had grown weaker over the past two weeks, curled up in his bed. He had a weeks session of radiotheraphy, which seemed to make matters worst,and we were slowly losing dad day by day. We were informed he had four tumours of the brain (which caused him to fit),and neoplasm of the lungs.

At last the ambulance pulled up and out they lifted this tiny, frail body, in a chair stretcher. I knew then and reality hit, that we had brought him home to die. We had agreed to have him taken upstairs in his room, where he still felt mums presence. Surrounded still by all her possesions, nail polish, sprays,etc. Me amd my brothers had agreed to move back

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