Distance is often associated with the word tyranny, but never more so than in this time of self-isolation. Distance from Dad and from a dear friend who has just past away is weighing on us and sending us in a spin. Warning, this is not a feel good post. But sometimes things are hard going and you know by now this blog is about life as we experience it, not a rosy pretence or fictitious tale.
Let’s start at least with one positive. Six weeks after his brachytherapy Wade drove to Melbourne yesterday, for an MRI and CT scan. This is a good thing done and a significant milestone reached in his prostate cancer journey. It will be another three weeks before we find out the outcome. Why it takes that long to get reports done and the Skype consult with the radiologist to happen, who knows? Although we don’t have any concerns, we wish we could get confirmation all is done and dusted without having to wait so long. This next important step happens in mid May. Fingers crossed it all goes well!
A far less positive journey and a source of sorrow in our life is Papa’s predicament in France. In our previous post we mentioned he had a bad fall and broke the neck of his femur, on top of being in the final stage of pancreatic cancer. He has since had another fall, is in a state of great confusion. The cruel point is that with the pandemic he is in complete lockdown. No family is allowed to visit him to comfort him. He is lonely, feels abandoned, depressed, lost, and is fading away on his own. Our only possible connection was by mobile phone and WhatsApp. However with his decreasing physical capacity and mental acuity, phone calls have become extremely challenging for him. My sister and now myself call the nurses on a land line and they then alert him. It is heart breaking to hear him struggle with his words and thoughts. Every day gets harder as he gets weaker and less coherent. We are dreading the advent of THAT phone call but also wishing the end is near for his sake. Last night he told me he has had enough. I told him we love him and it is okay to let go. But can he?
And then as if this was not enough sadness, a dear friend of ours, Baz (Barry Dunphy), who had been battling lung and oesophageal cancer, took a turn for the worst and died on Wednesday morning. We were unable to be with him and his wife Lyn to hold their hand. We had been following their ups and downs for several years and knew it would not end well, but it is still terribly painful to get to this point.
Baz is in a kinder place now, and we hope that for Papa deliverance will come soon, in as little pain as possible. We love them both. They will never really leave us.
Stay close to your loved ones.