Patchwork

I held the fort this morning while Mum played tennis with some friends. I like to give her opportunity to do something other than look after Dad. She has been looking after him for longer than i have afterall. After thrashing her opponents on the court, Mum went to the pharmacy to collect the patch prescribed by the doctor last night. We decided to put the patch on Dad as soon as we could. The packet was really fiddly to open and after struggling to get into it we pulled out a tiny postage-stamp-sized little sticker which we applied to the top of Dad's arm. Each patch lasts 72 hours but we have been warned that it will take about 24 hours for the patch to have any effect, so in the meantime we are continuing to give him the liquid morphine (six spoons a day) He is still holding his head firmly to the left and proving difficult to feed in this position; which must be uncomfortable. He hasn't said much again today except when this morning's nurse asked how he felt today Dad's response was "downhill"

Looking awkward

Today has been a day of activity. My brother and my boyfriend were here so we put them to work fixing the fridge this morning. The panel-cover was coming away from the door and there was an almighty midnight-snack-exposing creak which needed fixing too. After the fridge came the firewood which needed chopping smaller. Dad has been quiet all day again. He fell asleep yesterday evening with his head facing sharply to the left and looked uncomfortable. Today he stayed in that position all day and seemed in pain when we tried to help him move to face anything other than the wall. We called the NHS out of hours service again and a doctor came to see Dad. She told us there could be several reasons for the neck pain and concluded there is no danger in moving Dad but that it is simply a question of comfort. We now have a prescription for a morphine patch which we can get from the pharmacy tomorrow. It will release 12mg an hour into his system, through his skin, for 72 hours so is a much more constant dose than we are currently able to give him. The doctor said that if it is only pain-related this may enable Dad to sit holding his head straight again. It is also possible however that it is caused somehow by the metastases in his brain and will not be remedied. At least we can relieve his pain, even if he sits a bit wonky.

Howling wind and the killer ditch

Today has been a quiet day, apart from the wind howling down the chimney. The nurses have come and gone. Dad's shave this morning was far simpler than the other day, partly because his beard wasn't nearly so established, but also i think, because the nurse shaving him was a 'no nonsense' type. Different nurses visit each time and some we are starting to recognise. The ones who have visited before have started to park down in the village square and walk up the lane rather than attempt to navigate the perilous drive and the killer ditch.
Mum was invited to a friend's for coffee and i convinced her to go. I kept on top of work from the armchair near Dad's bed while he listened to the radio and watched some television. The pharmacy finally got hold of Dad's medicines in liquid form today, so Mum collected them. These will be easier for Dad to take than the pills. We now have to work out and write down the equivalent amounts to make sure we get the dose of each correct.