A Very Bad Day

Today has been full of sadness, disappointment and worry.

Dad's big sister, my lovely Auntie Joyce - his only sibling - passed away just before 8 o'clock this morning. We were dreading breaking the news to him when we went to the hospital this afternoon, and in fact it turned out to be a very bad time to tell him about it, because when we arrived on the ward we found Dad very depressed and suffering from low morale. He had had an awful morning, whisked off to x-ray where he sat and waited for over an hour on his own and missed being able to have a wash and clean his teeth. After the doctor had taken a look at the x-ray, she told him he wouldn't be able to go home today and would have to stay in hospital over the weekend. With the air still trapped in-between the two linings of his lung there is a danger the lung may collapse, and the team didn't want to risk it. So he is to remain a virtual prisoner in his chair and bed until at least Monday, and is bitterly disappointed. The vacuum gauge has been turned up to an even higher pressure, which is making his good lung feel affected and his breathing uncomfortable. He is off his food, and seems to have abandoned hope. Mum and I are beside ourselves with worry for him.

I hope the hospital chaplain, a gentleman Dad knows from his old church in Frinton-on-Sea, will visit him again tomorrow and take communion with him. I know Dad would get a great deal of comfort from this, as he was much happier after the chaplain's visit last Saturday.

There has been so much pain, upset and loss in my life since I turned 50 five years ago, and very little to feel joyful about. Sometimes picking yourself up and carrying on yet again feels almost impossible.


In the framed photo, which sits on a bookshelf in my room at Mum and Dad's, is Auntie Joyce with her late husband, Uncle Bernard. May they both rest in peace.