The Loss of Self 4

One of the worst memories I have is that of my father dead in a hospital bed, this was several years before mum took ill; he had been taken in to hospital with chest pains. I can’t say that I was overly concerned at this as he had been in and out of hospital for years after a heart operation, which left him suffering from regular heart pain.
It was not until later in his life that we began to get on very late and to be fair that was more my fault than his I was not the hardest working of people back then. This changed when I decided that I was going to start up a small taxi company he had been a taxi controller for years before so offered plenty of advice, which was great he also took me around looking for our first taxi. A few weeks after starting things were not going so well we were operating from home putting our number in local pubs, clubs and shops we had been covering all the costs but very little profit when one of his contacts from the trade passed on a tip that increased my business ten fold at that time.
It was about four months after that he took ill this time and was admitted to Stirling hospital I visited a couple of times but was not overly concerned about him. It was not until I was wakened from my sleep with the words “if you want to see him you have to move now the doctors said he is going down hill fast” and in my sleepy state all I could thing was why is he going down a hill? It took a few moments more before it dawned on me what he meant by that. The nine-mile Journey was a bit of a blur of fast driving we arrived there and dashed straight to the ward only to be met by a doctor “sorry your too late” I’m sure that’s not exactly what he said but its what I remember. Taking us into a small room to the side of the ward he talked about something I haven’t a clue what and then asked if we would like to see him.
What struck me as we entered the curtained part of the ward was how tidy the bed was immaculate corners and folds no creases at all and pulled down tight on my father as he lay there simply looking at peace I think I was with my mum and sister at that time I remember just how upset my mum was I realized right then just how much she loved him.
However seeing my dad there was just too much for me and I ran from the ward to be by myself for a while I was only just starting to get on with him and he was gone and I was late was all I could think.
And now here I was in the same hospital practically the same ward and contemplating the same thing.
The Whole family agreed no matter what mum would spend her last days at home and we would do exactly what was needed to make that happen.
When we first approached the doctors they told us there was no chance if the move didn’t kill her they said the lack of professional care would, we decided to ask mum what she thought and she was clear she wanted to go home no mater what. We again approached the doctors now they said that it could be impossible to arrange but they would look into it and let us know.
After that there was a series of delaying moves by the hospital, we can’t get a bed, can’t arrange nursing care to getting transport were all used as excuses.
It did not take us that long before we told them that we would do what we had too to take her home on our own if the hospital didn’t get it sorted we would.
To their eventual credit they then moved into top gear and within a short period we were all there at the front door welcoming her home bigger smiles were never seen.
It did not take to long for the care folk to get her ensconced into her bed which had been place right up at the front room window where she would be able to see people come and go around the village, And it did not take too long before people were waving too her as they passed by going about there daily lives.

The Loss of Self 4

Alan Findlater

Fishcross, Alloa, Scotland, United Kingdom

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