Dad now has a bed in the Palliative care ward. We moved from 5CN to 3BN this evening. The ward is warm and comforting. There is plenty of room to wander and be alone if you need it. There is a full kitchin and laundry suite. There are no visiting hours. We can stay 24/7 if we want. Cots can be moved into his room.

It does not look like we will be able to bring dad home – so we can bring a bit of home to him.

The nurses on 5CN have been amazing. We’ve lost track of time. We’ve lost a sense of ourselves. We’re losing dad. Through it all, they responded with increasing care and compassion. They never held us to visiting hours and let us roam around the ward gathering supplies as needed. They allowed us to share in his daily care. They provided a shoulder to cry on when needed and were quick with a much needed laugh. I will miss them.

The good: Dad was moved to a private room in the Palliative care ward.

The bad: Dad is losing his ability to swallow liquids now. It seems ice cream is one of the few things he can still eat.

The ugly: I wrote my father’s obituary today.

Technorati Tags: palliative care, hospital, death, dying, cancer

It’s another Red Friday today and I’m looking forward to seeing if the CFRA 580 rally on Parliament Hill today makes the evening news here in New Brunswick. It’s already found mention on the front page of Canoe, the Toronto Star, and CBC.ca. Photos from the rally can be found at Autonomous Source.

I wish I could have been there.

If I’d had half a brain this morning, I would have remembered that my new boss (thank goodness she’s much like the odd boss) works out of Ottawa. I could have reminded her about the rally.

Alas, my brain turned to mush and seeped out my ears months ago.

The hubby is off on exercise at CFB Wainright so the only red he’ll be wearing is on the flags velcro’d to the side of his combats. I hope he’s at least got decent weather. I am just too lazy to try and look it up online today.

Good News: Dad is at the top of the list for a bed in the palliative care unit. It’s only an 8 bed unit, so there’s a waiting list to get into it. They work with pain and symptom management. They think there may be a bed available for him to be transferred to the unit sometime this weekend.

Bad News: In order for the bed to be available for dad to move to palliative care, someone else has to leave the unit. There are three ways this could happen. The most obvious is that the patient dies. It’s also possible that if their heath improves, but they’re not well enough to go home, they can be transferred to another wing in the hospital. Finally, a person can go home, freeing up a bed. Let’s keep our fingers and toes crossed that the reason a bed is projected to be available soon is option 2 or 3.

Secrets to share: I have never been to Ottawa. I have travelled throughout the US, Mexico, sections of Europe (Scotland, England, Ireland, Wales, Germany, Spain, France) and Asia (India, Japan, Hong Kong, Phillipines). I’ve even lived in Ontario. I have not once made the trip to my nation’s capital. If I make it to Kingston for Sean and Kim’s wedding, I really should consider taking the drive to Ottawa and wandering around.

Technorati Tags: red friday, rally, support the troops, Ottawa, palliative care

Apparently, the Dr. was wrong when she spoke to us on Tuesday. We can’t bring dad home as quickly as she had suggested. It’s a distinct possibility that we’ll never be allowed to bring him home. The NB Medicare system was amazing when dad was diagnosed and then treated in Winnipeg (we were on vacation there at the time), but doesn’t appear to have much set up in the way of “end of life” care. Unless you hire a nurse yourself, there is no overnight nursing care available. While mom’s a retired nurse and I’m here, the two of us likely won’t be able to manage 24 hour care by ourselves.

We do want to try though – dad wants to come home.

However, at this point all the planning is just that – planning. Dad can’t leave the hospital until the pneumonia is cleared, the pain is under control, and he’s off as much of the medications as possible.

Instead of taking him home today, we’re trying to get him a bed in palliative care. They tell us he can be released from palliative care and go home once he’s better, but I suspect that may never happen.

It is not easy to die with dignity in this province.

Technorati Tags: end of life care, cancer, dying, NB Medicare

“There’s nothing we can do.”

When I hear those words from the mouth of a customer service representative, sales agent, or government employee, they make my blood boil. The instinct to fight harder or push to get what I want – most often an apology – kicks into overdrive. When the team of doctors finally say the phrase after a 2 year battle, I want to crawl into the corner and scream like a baby.

I am watching my father die by inches.

I am greedy. I am selfish. I am unwilling to let go. I am uncertain whether it will be possible to survive this daily struggle. I am already scarred and damaged. Such a short time ago he ruled the stage with such a huge personality – exploding at the seems with life – that it is killing something in side for me to watch him shrink and whither away.

Gillian asked how he has managed to survive so long. The only thought that comes to mind is pure Scottish stubbornness. That can only carry you so far.

We’re going to try and bring him home this week. I think I’ll be home for Christmas.

Technorati Tags: cancer, death, pain, mourning, father, dad

I love Dust my Broom. Hell, I blog or tip my hat to this particular location on the ‘net so often that I really should dedicate an entire category to it. It’s a rare day indeed when I don’t traipse over to view the site, and it’s one of the few sites I’ll post comments to on a semi-regular basis (by my standards).

It’s with particular joy that I announce to any of my poor readers – who’ve yet to make the leap over to the broom – that Darcy has been interviewed. I know, by definition anyone could interview another and it wouldn’t be big news. Darce (if I may be so bold as to familiarize his first name) was interviewed by the Mountain View Gazette.

What attracted me to DMB originally was Friday Night Blues and Beer. What kept me coming back on daily basis was the heart behind the writing. Reading posts from Darcy and later Shere Khan and Raskolnikov, you feel like you have a direct line to the thoughts whirling around in both their little grey cells and their souls. There is honesty, laughter, anger, joy and sorrow in the posting. I aspire to write and inspire as well as the DMB team (now including Lisa) does.

Ridiculously, I feel like a proud mom showing off pictures of her kids.

Technorati Tags: Dust my Broom, Darcy Jerrom interview, Mountain View Gazette