My Dad

It was peaceful in the end.

He had been in hospital for weeks now, blind, deaf, bedridden, increasingly frustrated that he was constantly being pricked for blood samples and injections, and going mental because there was no one to just talk to.  When visited, his one request was "Get me out of this place".  He hated it. But his communication reduced with time and in the end he would not repsond to anything.

Eventually he was moved to another hospital where the focus was on physiotherapy.  The move itself nearly killed him with exhaustion.  But they were unable to do physio because of his weakness. The consultant suspected further chest infections and wanted to do more tests, but the hospital staff wisely said they would only do them when he was strong enough, and listened to my sister's request that they focus on his comfort and dignity.

So at 5:30 this morning they phoned my sister to say that he had passed away at about 4:30, probably about 10 minutes after they had checked on him and found him to be comfortable.

My sister texted me at 6:37.  I phoned back at 6:50 and heard the news.  The rest is history. 

Mum seems to be taking it 'matter of fact' - which is probably her coping mechanism.  Plus we have all had time to get used to the idea that it would happen soon.  Maybe it will hit her more when the fuss has died down

Not much I can do here (They are all four hours drive away).  My role has been to phone friends in Spain, which I have done.  So I am back at work, rather than moping at home, but I can't really concentrate.