My Dad went into hospital for a routine hernia operation and all went well but at age 74 with only 1/4 of his lung capacity due to emphysema - a result of 30 years underground as a coal miner - it was a worry.
He caught an infection, it led to pneumonia and then he caught a secondary infection, the decision was made to place him on life support as his lungs were having a hard time coping...
They kept him unconscious for several weeks and it was a huge worry but he came through it ok.
He made a full recovery, and the consultant was so happy with his progress that he decided to release Dad earlier than they originally told us he'd be home.
He didn't need physio and as he'd recovered so well and due to the time he'd been on life support his wound had healed so he didn't need to have visits and dressings from a nurse.
He was sent home with an appointment to see his consultant in a month...
Dad came home on the 2nd November, he was so happy to be home and after an hour Aaron helped him up to bed as he insisted he wanted to sleep in his own bed.
About half hour later he got up and came downstairs where he spent a few hours alternating between his nebuliser and oxygen.
Next morning after sleeping on the sofa and breakfasting with Mum, he sent her off to buy a new ceiling light for the hallway.
Aaron and I spent the morning with him, having our breakfast, Dad was on top form, we were all laughing and joking and he set to and sorted out his drawer putting things in order.
He asked Aaron to fetch him his oxygen, we helped him hook himself up and a little later he became unresponsive, then unconscious, we got an ambulance. Mum came home and after looking him over the first responders wanted to take him to the ambulance do some tests and stabilise him before taking him to hospital.
We waited outside to be told we could go to hospital with him, I could see them doing CPR and I just knew... They got a second ambulance team to assist tried more for ages... then came and told us his heart had stopped and they're trying desperately to restart it.
The took him to hospital, we followed and waited for ages, several of the staff from the Intensive Care team came to assist when they heard he'd been brought in...
It was too late... my Dad is gone.
We had formalities to attend to, police identification and saying goodbye in a viewing room, I took Mum's hand and led her like she was my child...
Dad's funeral was on the 29th November and as you can imagine, I've really felt like shit so I've been quiet.
I've started to write a little in my drafts, it's helping, but I'm not always feeling it,
