Today I had an experience which I have never had before in my life. I said goodbye to a friend who I know will never see again. He is dying, and he knows it. His time left is short, perhaps only a few days.
He is the Godfather of my landlady and I met him and his wife just over two years ago. They are both now in their mid 70's, and when I first met them he had been suffering for some years with Diabetes and had recently started to receive Dialysis treatment for other complications. He also suffered from time to time - since his early forties - from a serious heart condition.
Three weeks ago his family informed my landlady that he was to go into hospital for treatment for his heart condition. During his time there he had further heart attacks and a bypass operation was carried out, but was unsuccessful. The operation was carried out under local anaesthetic as his kidney problem would not allow a full general anaesthetic.
A couple of days later he had one of his legs amputated above the knee. This devastated him, but within a couple of days was making light of it and had set himself a goal of seeing Rome. He was indefatigable, in public anyway, but like all of us had a private side which was sometimes depressed. And who could fault him for this?
On Monday of this week I went to see him with my landlady, he looked ill and was a little quieter than normal. On the way home his wife expressed her concerns about his worsening condition. What can one say in the circumstances? It appeared obvious that he would have to have his other leg removed.
On Tuesday he had another heart attack, and very quickly the surgeon and his team came to see him. After a long consultation the surgeon told him that he had decided that there was nothing more to be done for him and that it was his decision to withdraw medical treatment.
Today he should have gone for dialysis but in view of his blood sugar levels and blood pressure this could not happen.
We received a phone call about mid morning to tell us the news. By midday we were at his bedside. He looked very well, talkative and in full command of all his faculties.
In a very businesslike and yet rueful way he told us all that had happened and that he was only going to fool The Grim Reaper by not going through the door which had been indicated. He knew that he was dying, and that he had only a short time to live. Yet his attitude was fairly matter of fact, and yet underneath he was also sad.
After some time sat with him and his wife, who had been at the hospital overnight, he suddenly looked tired and lost a little of the colour from his cheeks. I suggested that it was time we left him. "Yes," he said, looking up at me, "I do feel a little tired."
Then came the hardest part, saying our final farewells. My landlady was in tears as she hugged him despite trying to keep her eyes clear. I held his hand and tried to say something, but he beat me to it. "It's been a pleasure to know you David", he said. I felt the tears coming to my eyes. I don't remember what I said.
We left the hospital and sat in the car for a time.
How can anyone be so considerate for the feelings of others in such a situation? He did though. He might last a few days from this posting, or a few hours.
I have known him only a couple of years, but know why his family hold him in such affection. He is a man of incredible intellect and humour, of consideration and tact, yet never afraid to say the right words where they were needed.
He will be missed by not only his family but a very wide circle of friends from the earlies part of his life to the very end of it.
Good night dear friend.
He is the Godfather of my landlady and I met him and his wife just over two years ago. They are both now in their mid 70's, and when I first met them he had been suffering for some years with Diabetes and had recently started to receive Dialysis treatment for other complications. He also suffered from time to time - since his early forties - from a serious heart condition.
Three weeks ago his family informed my landlady that he was to go into hospital for treatment for his heart condition. During his time there he had further heart attacks and a bypass operation was carried out, but was unsuccessful. The operation was carried out under local anaesthetic as his kidney problem would not allow a full general anaesthetic.
A couple of days later he had one of his legs amputated above the knee. This devastated him, but within a couple of days was making light of it and had set himself a goal of seeing Rome. He was indefatigable, in public anyway, but like all of us had a private side which was sometimes depressed. And who could fault him for this?
On Monday of this week I went to see him with my landlady, he looked ill and was a little quieter than normal. On the way home his wife expressed her concerns about his worsening condition. What can one say in the circumstances? It appeared obvious that he would have to have his other leg removed.
On Tuesday he had another heart attack, and very quickly the surgeon and his team came to see him. After a long consultation the surgeon told him that he had decided that there was nothing more to be done for him and that it was his decision to withdraw medical treatment.
Today he should have gone for dialysis but in view of his blood sugar levels and blood pressure this could not happen.
We received a phone call about mid morning to tell us the news. By midday we were at his bedside. He looked very well, talkative and in full command of all his faculties.
In a very businesslike and yet rueful way he told us all that had happened and that he was only going to fool The Grim Reaper by not going through the door which had been indicated. He knew that he was dying, and that he had only a short time to live. Yet his attitude was fairly matter of fact, and yet underneath he was also sad.
After some time sat with him and his wife, who had been at the hospital overnight, he suddenly looked tired and lost a little of the colour from his cheeks. I suggested that it was time we left him. "Yes," he said, looking up at me, "I do feel a little tired."
Then came the hardest part, saying our final farewells. My landlady was in tears as she hugged him despite trying to keep her eyes clear. I held his hand and tried to say something, but he beat me to it. "It's been a pleasure to know you David", he said. I felt the tears coming to my eyes. I don't remember what I said.
We left the hospital and sat in the car for a time.
How can anyone be so considerate for the feelings of others in such a situation? He did though. He might last a few days from this posting, or a few hours.
I have known him only a couple of years, but know why his family hold him in such affection. He is a man of incredible intellect and humour, of consideration and tact, yet never afraid to say the right words where they were needed.
He will be missed by not only his family but a very wide circle of friends from the earlies part of his life to the very end of it.
Good night dear friend.
1 comment:
You write very well.
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