"What a mess"

June 2008 dad was having trouble with pain in his rib area, he also had been coughing up blood, not much but enough to concern him. He went to see his own G.P. who told him he'd probably bruised his ribs and burst a blood vessel with all his coughing. Could he take paracetamol and come back on Monday for an x-ray.

Sunday came and he took himself up to A&E. They admitted him and after some tests he was diagnosed with lung cancer.

In a previous scan a year before asbestosis was found in his lungs. But we were not informed.

We went to see a specialist who at first was quite pleasing and helpful.

We arranged for dad to start Trials which included radical radium and radical chemo.

After 2 weeks I had to go to his G.P. who hadn't had any notes for my dad since 1987.

Actually we found out what happened was his notes were going into another mans file.

We returned from the hospital with a prescription, which was given to dad by the consultant. On giving it to his GP's receptionist, we were told she had put the wrong mans name on it. I felt like it continued to be one struggle after another.

Dad finished his radium treatment but the consultant stopped the chemo, I am not sure if she remembered he was on trials. But his blood count was dropping, and had a fever. Again I felt like I had to fight to get him seen too, and admitted to hospital. He was doing well then at the end of November we went back for another consult, Good news, and bad news. Good news tumour in his lung had shrunk. Bad news it's now in your liver. Ok so what do we do?? Enjoy what life you have left.......

Then in early December I suffered a subrachnoid brain haemorrhage. Things just went crazy. Poor Dad was now holding my hand, I didn't notice nor did it register in my brain how ill he had got, things are blurred and we lost him in March 09. I have a few memories like when they took him into the hospice, thought he was going in for them to sort out his intestines which were hurting due to another week of radium, which I was at with him and my friend who drove us there every day, I don't remember but am assured I was there. In the hospice he fell out of bed, and then I think he wasn't taken for an x-ray so it seems to me that he went downhill from that night. In my opinion, they didn't feed him or took away his fluids. We were assured that he would be coming home. He didn't. I am now left with a feeling what happened?