So it has taken almost 10 months to keep writing Max's final days. I am getting there. Eventually. It is something I really need to do. I thought my memories of these days were fading, but they haven't. They are still there clear as yesterday and the tears to go with them.
His Last Days- Friday 7th May 2010
His Last Days- Saturday 8th May 2010
His Last Days - Sunday 9th May 2010
More of my family gathered to see Max and give us support. We were waiting for the ambulance to come to take Max to the Palliative care hospice. They took a while to arrive, giving the family the opportunity to say their lasts words to Max. He was out of it. We had to give him more sedatives by this stage, he had become so agitated I could no longer deal with him, he was no longer reasonable. Everyone had entered the room in turns to say their goodbyes, everyone walking out of the room in tears. I hovered around outside our bedroom wanting to be by his side, not knowing what to do but trying to give everyone their time with Max without intruding.
When everyone had seen him, I sat by his side and held his hand. I told him it was ok to let go now through my uncontrollable crying. Telling him how much he meant to me, how much he meant to Boo. Thanking him for being in my life, thanking him for loving me so much. It was time. He no longer needed to suffer, he no longer had to be in pain. FUCK. I also told him that my Grandmother would be waiting for him with a huge plate of pasta. She was. I know she was. Hoping he was laughing on the inside.
The ambulance arrived. Max's sedation was wearing off and he knew what was happening. He didn't like it. He was getting agitated again. Boo who had been asleep the whole time had become unsettled he too knew something was going on. As the ambulance took Max out on the stretcher he passed Boo in the corridor who was in my sisters arms. He lifted his head to give Boo a kiss. The tears pouring down my face. I explained to Max that he was going to the hospital in the ambulance and that I would meet him there. He wasn't happy. I hated seeing Max so angry. I had never, ever seen him like this. It broke my heart.
My eldest brother drove me to the hospice, I couldn't deal with Max. I let him ride in the ambulance alone. I felt like I was letting him down. Even though we had had the discussion before hand that when it was time he would be going to the hospice. I had to live in the house again and if he had died here it would have made it all a lot harder. Like it hasn't been hard enough. I knew he wasn't 100% happy about it but he understood and he agreed.
It was about 2am by the time we got him to the Hospice. He was settled into a bed and given more sedatives. I sat by his side watching every labored breath and holding his hand. My brother stayed with me the entire time. We sat in mostly silence watching each breath. My sister was looking after Boo. Come 7am my brother suggested I go to my sisters and have shower and get a couple of hours sleep. I was resistant, I didn't want to leave Max but I went. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally. I slept for an hour and was woken by my sister and Boo bringing me breakfast in bed and a flower and Teddy. It was Mothers Day, I had forgotten. How many years had I longed to celebrate a Mothers Day with my future child? all those years of infertility forgotten. I knew I would celebrate many more with my precious boy but today I needed to be by Max's side.
When I got back to the hospice I asked the nurse how he was going. She said he had been very agitated and abusive. Abusive? This was not my Max. I felt terrible and apologized to her. They had put him in an arm chair so he could sit up for a while. When I walked in. He was yelling with the little breath he had " I want to get out of here!" Oh my heart was breaking. I wanted to take him back home, but I knew I couldn't. He needed to be here, these people could look after him. I no longer could do it.
So I suggested I take him outside. Asking him would he like that. I felt like I was talking to a child. "Yes" he responded just like a child who had just thrown a tantrum. The arm chair was on wheels so I wheeled him out in the warm Autumn sun for a while. My sister arrived with Boo. He said he was thirsty he wanted a drink, he didn't want water, he didn't want apple juice. "No I hate apple juice!" He snapped, when my sister asked if he would like some. He wanted Coke, so I bought him Coke. He had one sip and it all just bubbled out his mouth. He could no longer swallow. He hadn't had anything to eat or drink for more than 24 hours now. He became even more frustrated. My sister used Boo to distract him pointing out that Boo had come to visit him. Max put his arm out to pull Boo closer and gave Boo a kiss on his cheek and held his hand. It was the last time Boo saw his Daddy, it was his last Daddy kiss. But that kiss was so filled with love, it showed in his sunken blues eyes. I could see Max's frustration melt away when he saw his son. Even if it was only just for a moment.
We had our last family photo taken at that moment. Boo smiling ear to ear not knowing what was going on being his happy little self, me with my with red bulging eyes and red face from all the tears and Max staring into space. Empty. Angry. I look at the photo now and it really tells the story, captured in that moment.
(More to come)