My dad died about 7 weeks ago, at the start of November. He'd been poorly the Nov before, prostate cancer was suspected, but blood tests were clear. He was having trouble urinating though and he was too stubborn to keep pestering the doctors. We went round one day to find him hallucinating . We got him to the gp who sent him to the hospital. He was in for weeks, with borderline kidney failure due to a 'blockage' and he was fitted with a catheter.
In Jan he was told it was advanced penile cancer high up in his urethra. It was a large tumour, the surgeon then told us, and it was inoperable.
He had chemo, but the tumour continued to grow though and in June he was told that the chemo wasn't working and that he was terminal, but that some radiotherapy would be given to reduce the size of the tumour and hopefully make him more comfortable.
On his last treatment of radiotherapy he went into hospital for a treatment and didn't leave for a few weeks as he had a fracture in his pelvis due to the cancer being there. He never really took in the information that the cancer had spread.
He was told that he had months to a year left. 4 months after that he started having bowel problems and in October, just after his birthday, he was discovered to have malignant bowel obstruction. When this was discovered, they were clear with us that he had weeks to days left.
That was on the Monday and on the Saturday, after a week of sitting by his side trying to make him as comfortable as possible and talking to him when we could, he passed away.
It was a horrible week at the end where he sort of knew that he was truly dying, but wasn't really clear enough to talk to us. The hospital kept him completely nil by mouth at the start before they realised that giving his bowel a rest wasn't going to accomplish anything and the distress he was in wanting something to drink, yet being not quite with it enough due to his confusion from his blood calcium levels and infection, to understand why noone would 'Make me a bloody cup of tea!' was horrible to see and it haunts me now.
Once they knew he was dying he got his cup of tea! We took music in that he liked and he'd mouth or sing along to the songs and smile if people said things he found funny. We should have realised that last night that something was different as he was agitated for the first time, but we didn't know and we kissed him goodnight as normal after evening (late night) visiting.
2 hours later we were called to the hospital, but he'd already passed away. I will remember the sight of him lying dead in his hospital bed forever.
(Sorry it's long)