Another Doctor

Dad has declined notably over the past week, even with an increased dose of steroids and now morphine. The days when he does not get out of bed are slowly starting to outnumber the days that he does. His appetite has vanished too and Mum has resorted to buying Dad's favourite biscuits, cakes and treats in order to tempt him to eat anything at all. This change in him provoked the Macmillan nurse to bring a doctor with her when she visited today. (Dad's specialist is on holiday this week and she wanted a doctor's opinion.) In evaluating Dad, the doctor asked Dad a few questions, most of which Dad gave complicated non-sensical answers to. Mum had been worried it might have been the effect of the morphine, but unfortunately the doctor confirmed this was due to the progress of the disease. I hate him being so muddled. It seems impossible that it is really him. I wait for him to tell me he is pulling my leg, an assurance that never comes. The doctor recommended we increase the dose of morphine to eliminate Dad's headaches. He also suggested the radiotherapy scheduled to start tomorrow may bring Dad discomfort outweighing the possible (but not guaranteed) benefits. So Mum is going to call the specialist tomorrow to see what he advises. Dad has some old friends coming to visit tomorrow, who he is looking forward to seeing. Will he or won't he get out of bed for them i wonder?