Dad’s Cancer – His final weeks

Hello everyone,


It’s been a terrible long time since my last post and I’m very sorry.

The thought of writing this post was quite painful.  Because it means that my dad really is dead.


The hospice he lived in for about 2 months was very good.  The carers were friendly, the food was good, his room was big with some pretty furniture.

It took us about 15 minutes to get to him by car and about 25 minutes by train.

It was very weird.  Just visiting my dad, not actually living with him anymore.

He came home four times and each time it was more exhausting for him.

He could hardly walk, climbing stairs was nearly impossible. He spoke less, got tired really fast and also became impatient.

At his last weeks he got a wheel chair.

A few days before he died was his 53rd birthday, so his siblings, their husbands/wives, his parents and of course his wife and kids celebrated with him.

My mum had made him a cake (he had been able to express which one he’d like to have) and had to feed him.

It was weird.

I had driven him from his room into the common room, where the celebration had taken place.

Somehow his guests had overerstimated his condition, they had looked shocked and sad.

During this hour my dad had looked quite often to me.  He couldn’t speak properly anymore, mostly nodded or shook his head to answer.  I will never forget his look.  The way he stared at me with his blue eyes I had always loved.  Like he wanted me to help him, but also full of unconditional love and trust.

In his last few weeks we started to hope he would die soon.  Because it was horrible to watch as his condition got worse and worse.

And I felt even more horrible for hoping that.





Dad’s cancer – Before the hospice

In January my dad had a faint and was unconscious for nearly the whole day.

He had a pulse, but he could not be woken up.

My mum called the paramedic and they injected him something and after some time he started reacting.  He was not completely ok, but he understood everything and could blink with his eyes to show that.

Funnily enough during his unconsciousness none of us (my brothers, my mum and me) cried or was in any other way shocked or scared.

After that incident however, it was clear that he couldn’t stay at home alone.  My mum had to work all day, so she couldn’t look after him.  That’s why we first tried it with a center for elderly people, where they only stayed over the day.

My dad was the youngest there with only 53 years and he was bored.  So he started wandering off, smoked a lot and after a few weeks he was dismissed, because of his behaviour.

Then my aunt, his youngest sister, agreed to be his “babysitter”.  She soon had to discover that it wasn’t that easy and that she was wrong in thinking he maybe could be healed.

I loved my dad and I still do, but seeing him struggle with the most trivial things was like torture to me.

But seeing him so sad at dinner, looking at us, knowing the couldn’t stay home much longer, because he needed better treatment, was heartbreaking.

I’d like to thank all my new followers and I’m sorry for this rather depressing post.  I just don’t want to euphemise this terrible disease and I want people to now how horrible it can be in reality (Some people like to romanticise cancer and it sickens me).

Feel free to leave a comment or to ask questions.  I hope you have a nice day!