How long am I allowed to grieve?
Can someone please help me. I lost my dad almost a month ago. It was quite fast.
I took him to the hospital Sunday, May 21 2006, he had a bad case of pneumonia. The doctor prescribed him antibiotics and sent him home. I called him the next morning to ask him how he was feeling and he said he was feeling a little better. I then went of to work another day on getting my hours needed in practical. I called dad at about 5 that evening and asked him how he was feeling, he sounded terrible. I asked him if he has to go back to the hospital and he said "yes, please take me". May 22nd I took dad back to the hospital and they kept him in and put him on oxygen.
Tuesday May 23rd the doctor came in and said he was looking at Sunday nights x-ray and was confering with the lung specialist. My father had lung cancer. They will make an appointment ASAP for a CT Scan. I put school on hold and my work experience to stay with dad and to give mom a break.
Wednesday May 24th, dads oxygen would drop whenever he exerted himself, so he had to take it easy. Dads health declined every day after that.
Thursday May 25th, dad and I went outside to get some of the country fresh air. He told me some stories and we laughed. He got tired and we went back in.
Monday May 29th dad and I went to town so he could have is CT Scan.
Tuesday May 30th, their is a large growth in the lung and the doctor is unsure if it is in the third bronchial, if it is there is nothing they can do. We will wait for an appointment for the specialist to do a biopsy on the lung.
Wednesday May 31st, the nurse on night duty suggested to me to give any family that is away a call and tell them that my father is very serious and if they wanted to see him they should come ASAP.
Thursday June 1st, one doctor told me no their is no hope for your father. There isn't anything they can do.
Friday June 2nd. Another doctor says, "I would like to send your father to the hospital in town, a 2 hour drive by ambulance. Dad wasn't getting enough oxygen so he wanted him to go on a ventilator machine or c-pat.
"Was there hope?"
Saturday June 3rd, the palliative care nurse went in to see my dad to explain everything that was truly going on. Dad said if there is any hope then yes he would go to town to see what it is they can do.
Saturday June 3rd, more x-rays done in town at the other hospital. The specialist looks at the x-rays. "No there isn't a thing we can do except for make him comfortable.
Sunday June 4th, the lung specialist goes in with mom and explain everything to dad. He wants to go back home to the hospital to die, he isn't dying here. But he wants the c-pat taken off so that he can talk to his family one at a time. We are all called in one at a time so he can talk to us. Then everyone is in so that he can sing to us.
"He sang beautiful dreamer" and he told us "He would see us on the other side." and "Debbie (that would be me) if I ever get up out of this bed, I'm going to kick you in the butt for being so bossy." That provided a great laugh for all of us.
June 4th early afternoon, dad is sedated, him and I board the ambulance to go back home. Dad is out the whole trip. I let dad know where we are and how close we are getting just to hang on till we get there.
"Dad we are home, I love you" Dad lets out a laugh and doesn't say another word until that evening. I told him again that I love him. The nurses put a special padding under him with the help of the abulance attendance to prevent pressure sores. Then the nurse inserts a butterfly to administer medication so that it would be more comfortable. he then turns without opening his eyes and says "You old b***h" to his favourat nurse. We had a great laugh, the nurse and I. Those were the last words spoken by dad.
Monday June 5, dad is heavily sedated. Everyone leaves at about 6pm except for mom and my little brother and myself. @ 10:35 that evening, I ask mom to call everyone back to the hospital as dad doesn't have very long left here.
10:35 the minister is called and he comes in and we all pray. 11 pm, we all sit around dad and tell our favourite stories. We all share and laugh. I know dad was laughing too.
Tuesday June 6 2006 @ 6:25 am dad takes his last breath. He is gone, surrounded by his wife and children, we are telling him we love him as he is taking his last breath.
6:30 the doctor comes in and removes the drainage tubes and pronounces death.
7:00 I go in and take care of dads post-mortom care and what comes on the radio, "Daddy's hands" (Holly Dunn) song, I said thankyou dad. And gave him a kiss and told him again I love him.
Thursday June 8 2006, A celebration of life is held in dad's memory. No funeral. I read a speach, telling some of dads stories, getting a few laughs. We have a glass of whiskey and water 1/2 & 1/2 in dads honor. "Dad is gone"
Friday June 9th -- life goes on. I'm back at school. Saturday and Sunday are a blur, but they are okay, not much crying for me. I'm strong, it could have been worse, dad could have suffered for months, but he didn't, he was only in the hospital 2 weeks and 1 day.
Monday June 12th I am back to school and keeping busy with my practical work. I will be all finished on the 28th, all I have to do is keep busy. And that is what I did. I kept busy with that, taking care of the kids, visiting my mom and younger brother and telling her I love her every night before I leave.
July 3rd, almost a month after dad has left us. I am a mess. School is finished, and I am not working. I have had four days off, a first since November, and I don't know what to do with myself. To make matters worse, my husband and I had a great argument yesterday. 1. I don't have a job 2. I have been grieving my father for way to long.
Yes, yesterday was the third time I cried. I asked my husband, "When does it get better?" His reply "When you let it" Needless to say, that didn't make me feel any better.
Today wasn't much better. I am angry. Angry at my dad for getting sick. Angry at my dad for dying and leaving us alone. Angry at my mom, she has cleaned out my dads things. Angry at them because they are going on with life, as if dad hadn't existed. And last, angry at myself for crying so much.
I am asking you. "WHEN DOES IT GET BETTER?"