The third week.....

Is it really the third week? It seems like only a few days since Cag returned from hospital........ or a life time. The new week saw the turning point, from a little recognition, to coma. Monday, perhaps a little smile, but nothing since. Her breathing is fast and shallow, hesitant at times, then starting again. There can't be much longer to wait. I pray not.

The Liverpool Care Pathway sucks. It was designed to maintain a level of hospice care within the home. It seems to me to fulfill all that is required by the law, but lacks the true compassion to the patient. I watch the golden liquid of life draining into a bag at the bottom of the bed, see all the body mass disappearing, to leave bones draped in it's covering of skin. Not much dignity in that.

Strangely, I'm finding it a little easier to deal with. Perhaps it's the anger or perhaps it's seeing others dealing with their grief. Like the families of the fallen watching their loved ones coming home from war. It's certainly brought new thoughts of 'tears and handkerchiefs' home to me.

I am thinking about the future. Making a few tentative plans. A little 'me' time to find out who I am, and if I'm the same person I thought I was. I shall start to make inquiries tomorrow about possible income, as everything has been based around Cag's situation. I've bought a small car, as our five week old Motability car will have to be returned, and Cornwall without a car is not an option. So a few blocks are being put in place.

I'm dreading 'the arrangements' but simplicity will be the order of the day. Neither of us would want black horses or long faces. It just one more day. One broken spoke on the wheel of life.