Palace of Care – See the difference Mum?

Photo by Amir Esrafili on Unsplash

The other doctor was Asian too, but he had such sad eyes.

I said to him, don’t look at me with your sad eyes.

See mum, he just told me really bad news, but he did it in a gentle fashion.

That’s the difference compared to the hospital doctors.

He sat down, talked to me, we had some laughs.

He prepared me for the bad news and then delivered it, and didn’t run away.

Sat right in front of me, asked me if I had any questions.

The others sort of threw the bad news at me, and then ran out of the room as if they’ve just thrown in a grenade.

Danger, danger, gotta get out before it explodes.

Hot potato, pass it on, quickly or you’ll burn your hands.

I can handle the bad news, I’ve had plenty of it. Where’s the respect, you just tell me the worst thing in the world, and then you run off as if you are the one who is hurting?

He told me straight up, and said, “No surprises.” That he needed me to know what was going on. That I needed to think about what I still had left to do.

He said that he was worried about me, as just before I went down South, that my pain had been getting worse. I had been trying my best to take medication when the pain got worse than 3/10, just like the doctor told me. The last two days before the trip, I needed extra medications as my pain was getting worse. The morning of the trip I couldn’t feel my arm properly and it wouldn’t move. The doctor increased my steroid dose as he knew I had important stuff to sort out, mainly who is going to be bringing up my son after I’m gone.

Today he said that he was worried even more, as yesterday morning, I had trouble swallowing pills, and he thought my voice had changed. Later on that morning, my breathing got real bad, and I had to go on oxygen. He said that if changes happen over weeks, that people might only have weeks left to live. And if changes occur over days…

He asked me if there was anything else that I needed to do? Nothing at the moment. The important work was done down South, sorting out my boy. All the other stuff doesn’t matter. He told me that I might not have much time left. It didn’t surprise me. I had already said to him that once my boy is sorted out, I can relax and enjoy the hospice. You know mum, I’ve never been to such a nice place in my life. I like it here, I feel safe, and they look after me well. Yeah, mum, I could stay here forever.

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