Eleven

Mum went to see dad around 8am. Dad was sitting up and wanted milk and tea. He had had another bad night, and was feeling sick. His tummy and liver area were painful, which made mum worry about a possible bile duct inflammation. Dad's body temperature was okay though, and there was no itching feeling. Dad had his tea and his milk and then a 20 mg tablet of oxycodone. Mum asked dad some questions about recent events until dad got tired and lay back down.

Then dad slept—and slept. And slept.

Nurse Helen came, and mum talked to her about dad being extremely fatigued and feeling sick. Helen said that was a very violent reaction to the oxycodone. She suggested talking to the doctor about supporting the pain in a different way. So mum called the doctor, who sent another prescription for the same oxycodone, only the 10 mg which he had meant the chemist to give out in the first place.

It is getting difficult for dad to get to the toilet. He knows when he has to go, but it takes about twenty to forty minutes to get from that realisation to calling someone to help him up, to sitting up right and then resting from sitting up right, getting his feet onto the floor, resting from that change of perspective, to up on his feet, to actually getting to the toilet in the next room...

Mum's parents opa and oma came to visit dad briefly today. They spent their time with dad asking him a few questions about the thing dad loves: aikido. It was good opa and oma were able to come despite oma's back pain. And it was good they saw dad with enough energy to be alert for them.

In the afternoon, around 15:20, Maya was in the room with dad. Suddenly dad needed to know exactly what time it was, and insisted it should be something with 11. There was some confusion about the exact time, and couldn't it just be 11 seconds... after a very intense and somewhat scary few minutes it was settled and dad could fall asleep.

Today was the first day dad has had nothing at all to eat.

Jack

Dad woke up at 8 in the morning. He had another bad night last night. Every time he says that, I think of what Marc said when he was here: that dad might just not know what a bad night is, exactly. But then, this time, dad did have a specific bad memory: a pounding on his chest. But at the same time he felt a huge gratitude, and a feeling of completion of what was going on. Mum wondered if it perhaps had been Jack who'd come to visit dad in the night.

Mum made tea for dad and herself and sat and drank it with dad. Mum had opened the curtains to a beautiful picture of white roof tops and snowy trees and gardens, which dad was extremely pleased to see. Dad happily sat watching the snow for ages, until he got tired and lay down. Still though, the curtains had to stay open for him to see the pretty outside.

Today dad is feeling pain. The fentanyl is not sufficient any more. Luckily, the doctor turned up unexpectedly (he'd called dad's number to announce his visit, but of course dad's phone was not reachable) to start the paracentesis that was suggested on Thursday. This visit gave a nice opportunity to talk about pain relief. The doctor suggested dad could start taking oxycodone (an opioid receptor agonist like morphine) tablets, 10 or 20 mg as needed. He also prescribed a certain cream to relieve some of the fluid pressure pain on dad's belly, and also to diminish the dryness of dad's skin.

Unfortunately, the paracentesis itself failed. The first needle puncture did not draw any more than one drop of fluid. The second attempt from a different angle got so painful that dad had cried out, "Stop that!" so the procedure was cancelled. Dad will now just have to endure the massively uncomfortable fluid retention in his belly.

Dad didn't much enjoy the dinner Nel had cooked today, but he was okay to have mum, Maya and Galen eat upstairs with him. After dinner dad had a rest, and at about 21:30 dad wanted more drugs. Dad was given 20 mg of oxycodone (the chemist had given 20 mg tablets in stead of 10 mg, so handy), but he spat it out straight away. He wanted to do it himself. So Maya put the tablet in dad's hand and dad swallowed it down with some water. Twenty minutes later, he was completely zonked out.

Sunday

Arjan came to visit dad briefly around midday. He'd had an appointment with Simon last Tuesday but had arranged it with Simon, not with Liduina. So when Arjan extremely decently phoned Liduina on Tuesday to make sure the visit was still okay, Liduina didn't know about it and told him no! A day or two later Martijn explained to Liduina that Arjan had actually properly arranged the visit, so Liduina made sure Arjan got a slot of time with Simon today. But Simon was so tired, that the slot of time was no more than about 10 minutes; Arjan had not even been able to finish his tea. It was good that he'd come though.

Simon's getting uncomfortably bloated and more and more confused. Since yesterday it is also more difficult for him to get up from his bed. Simon still drinks gallons, if it's not by now barrels, and has started eating very, very little. He only had a tangerine today, and a few prawns (Nel- and Mayamade™ with garlic oil) for dinner.

Camper adventure

Before seven in the morning on the first day of the weekend, the entire street was woken up by the camper alarm. It woke Simon as well, and he had to phone Liduina who then phoned Maya who then had to go and sort things out. Even the police came round to find out what was going on. The camper alarm is malfunctioning, and needs resetting by the garage.

On top of all this morning fun, Simon had had a bad night. He thought it was because of lack of drugs, but he didn't really need any fentanyl because he wasn't feeling any pain...

Liduina's brother Marc came to see Simon today. He drove over specially from Frankfurt. That was much appreciated. Marc and Simon had a nice conversation, and at the end of it Simon said to Marc that it had now been enough. He does not want to receive any more visitors after Marc. Except of course for the three appointments that have already been made (Arjan tomorrow, Liduina's parents Opa & Oma on Tuesday, and then Matthew's daughter Katherine on Thursday). And it is a good decision. Simon does his damnedest to be as alert as he can whenever there is a visitor, but it sucks out all of his energy. He has to sleep for the rest of the day to recover, and we're starting to notice that that recovery is not happening completely any more.

Liduina and Maya visited the hospice and found all sorts of pro's, but also many cons for Simon being moved to there. The biggest con was that one of the ladies currently there is allowed to smoke—as long as she's there, Simon stays with us. No question.

Marc treated the family to an Indian take away and ate upstairs with Liduina, Maya, Galen and Simon. Simon had his prawns, but in masala sauce in stead of the Simon Special, and he only ate a tiny bit of the portion. After he'd done he needed a rest straight away, no time for after-dinner-tea this time.

Blog

Simon had planned to start a blog from the very beginning of him falling ill, so people could know what was going on without him having to answer the same question with the same answer fifty—a hundred?— times a day. Somehow, he never did start that blog. He kept answering the countless messages he received. Eventually he started filtering them and only answered some. Then he stopped replying but still read them. Now his cancer has progressed to such a stage... or rather, the fentanyl has now made him so drowsy that Simon has switched off his iPhone. His iPad is covered in dust. His MacBook Air is somewhere on the floor, with the lid down. Who would have thought! Simon, disconnected from the electronic world. Gasp. At least his iPhone is still under his pillow.

Anyway, there are lots of people who still want to be informed of news concerning Simon's health, and the easiest way to communicate such information is still the blog concept. I passed the idea of me writing it by Simon this evening, and he liked it. So, here it is. If you have anything you'd like adding in a post, or if you'd like to have author rights for this blog so you can post messages yourself, let me know.

This page will hold seven posts at a time (or maybe more or less, if I change it later), with the most recent at the top. If you want to start reading from the beginning, you'll have to scroll right down to the bottom post, or maybe even click back to the previous page. Or, more easily, you can click here to go to the first post. You'll then see only one post per page. At the bottom of the post, you'll see the link "Newer post". Click that to see the next post. The link "Home" sends you back to the main page with seven (or more, or less) posts, and the link "Older post" loads the previous post. There's also an archive of all posts to the right of this blog. And above that, a place to enter your e-mail address if you want to receive e-mails when I (or someone else) adds a post. Oh, and a 'post' is one of these messages, in the lighter coloured boxes. You can comment on posts if you want, by clicking on the comments link below a post, then writing in the little box that appears below the post, and clicking 'Publish'.

Happy reading!

Coffee

Doug came to see Simon today. He spent the large part of an entire hour with him, and Simon was quite alert! Simon thoroughly enjoyed seeing and talking to Doug. He told me later that when it was time, it was hard to let Doug leave.

After Doug's visit Simon was very tired, so he slept. He managed to sit up for dinner (Nel's sauerkraut & mashed potato with bacon and sausage) but most of what he said was mumbled and rather confusing. I offered to make Simon some coffee, which he gladly accepted—as long as Maya made it. So I made tea for Liduina, Maya, Galen (who came back from Maastricht today) and myself. And Maya was left to make the perfect cup of coffee.

Simon is getting more and more confused, and the fentanyl is causing him to mix up his thoughts and create random associations (like all visitors playing the flute). It makes for interesting conversation.

Tomato juice

The night nurse came for the first time last night. Simon does not like it, but he understands she has to be there so that Liduina, Maya and Galen can sleep at night without having to worry about him.

Nurse Helen noticed Simon's belly is filling up with fluid, stretching out. This ascites can be extremely uncomfortable. Helen suggested we have the GP do a paracentesis (ascitespunctie), to relieve some of the pressure. Simon likes this idea. He says the ascites is now actually the only thing causing him discomfort. So Liduina spoke to the GP about a paracentesis, but according to him it would give relief for maybe only two or three days...

Simon had some Mayamade™ miso soup for lunch which he enjoyed. For the rest, he didn't eat much, but he drinks gallons of all sorts all day long—and still cannot quench his thirst. He has tomato juice, vegetable juice, ginger ale, milk, tea and of course his super special home made mix of lemon juice, sugar, salt and water.

Martijn came to visit Simon for an hour, and was lucky to find him rather alert. Martijn even got Simon to phone Eric, to make sure that Eric knew that it was Simon's intention to have Martijn take over the dojo. After his visit to Simon Martijn stayed another two hours to talk to Liduina.

I came round to see Simon during dinner time again. Simon was feeling well enough for Liduina and me to eat upstairs with him.