With an Advance Care Plan, a DNACPR and Power of Attorney in place, I had to be firm with the lovely GP who visited Dad. He was very confused. I said no to antibiotics, “what about a few days in hospital to make him feel better?” “NO.” I had to not waver. Last time he ended up in a nursing home for seven months. I lay in the bed next to him, for five nights. I held his hand. I washed him. All the family visited. At 5am on July 1st 2017 he stopped breathing. No drama. The sun was rising. I lay in bed, watching the sea begin to glint from the 6th floor. We kept him there all day. The family there. We had birthday cake and champagne for my son’s birthday. We had to have the gas engineer round as we smelt a leak. My niece said over the phone, “I’m at my grandad’s, he’s dead.” Pandemonium on the other end, urgent electrician who fixed the leak and ran out again saying, “don’t worry about the payment.” We all laughed as Dad would have been so pleased he got let off a bill! The funeral director came. She wore no gloves, she wrapped him in a felt shroud and put him in the back of her van with a colourful rug in it. We waved goodbye.
