I feel like I’ve just woken up from a deep coma.
I had chemo on Thursday and I think that floored me quite a bit. Ive just slept since friday.
The chest infection is calming and I am now more mobile without various tubes and IV attachments, which is all good.
Hopefully, I’ll be out by Wednesday….well, i’d definitely better be out by Friday because I need to see my best mate’s play at the weekend.
I have a tv and my kindle but – when I’m nnot asleep – I find myself mostly watching people dying.
That’s kind of weird but you can’t avoid it in here.
It’s more the family I find interesting as they are emotional and awkward and don’t know what to do.
A Jamaican elderly woman arrived yesterday, who don’t look so hot. The family have arrived on mass and they all stand around bumping into each other. The men lurk in the hall way, the women fuss around kissing and hugging the sick woman, propping her this way and that, and they kids hide in the corner with tears in their eyes.
None of this is pleasant. They don’t know if they’ll see their mum/sister/gran in the morning, so they all just stare at her.
Waiting and watching a loved one die must be one of the hardest things to do. Not as hard as dying, but similar. Relatives feel helpless and want it to happen quickly to avoid suffering but also want to prolong things.
There is no correct way to behave. If you wanted to strip naked and run madly through the hospital, then no one would mind.
Last week, the woman next to me took a turn and moved to a side room. I met her son the next day and he was a broken man. He said: “she’s only in her seventies but this cancer came quick. I don’t understand it”
The deep clean team were in cleaning the side room the next day. All trace of her hospital life removed by two men in suits. I guess her son still doesn’t understand.
So today, I salute the families of the sick; the ones who smile and cry and kiss and comfort and wait and hope but really just don’t understand.