The comparison between my dog’s last day and my dad and grandmother’s last days is stark.
I knew it was time to have my old boy put to sleep, he was in pain and miserable, we’d exhausted all the options the vet had to offer and it was awful watching him struggle. Me and my ex-husband put our lovely fella in the car, took him to his favourite park for a mooch around, bought him a burger and ice cream then went to the vets where he died in my arms.
My dad was on a trolley in A&E for almost 3 days, no privacy or dignity. When he finally got to a ward he was extremely distressed and confused. He died 4 days later, suffocating to death from end stage COPD. This is the man who had berated me the previous week for not checking my tyre pressure that month! He’d been lucid and his usual self at that point. My mum had to watch her husband of 56 years die, gasping for air.
My nan had a fall resulting in a bleed on the brain. She seemed to be making a good recovery, sat up in bed talking, complaining about missing her beloved sport on tv. The care she received was poor, she wasn’t given her levothyroxine which was vital as she didn’t have a thyroid gland, she was put in incontinence pants despite being fully capable of using the toilet at home, the food was dreadful and unsuitable for her dietary needs. However she was doing well and we thought she’d be home reasonably quickly.
Then the call came, another bleed and this one was unrecoverable. We were told a couple of days at most. Unfortunately Nan clung to life for another 12 days, no food or water, unable to move, often left on a soiled pad for hours where she developed bed sores, tears streaming down her face.
You can’t tell me that euthanasia wouldn’t have been kinder for them both.