Monday, 17 September 2007

Must I paint you a picture?

Got home from work today to find the boy on the sofa with the hospice nurse. Bit of a surprise.

They had rung the wife and she had told them about our fraught weekend. So they had come straight over. And will be back later in the week. Really, really good of them at this time. They have been really good to us over the last two years. It can be so isolating otherwise.

After they left the boy wanted to do painting, as he had done during the day. But his heart wasn't in it. He was just too tired. He had to sign all the colours, there's no speech at all now. Eventually, he submitted to going to bed. We didn't bother with a bath and went straight to a story. He was unsettled so we gave him some morphine. But he was jerky and couldn't quite drift off to sleep before the nurse came. When she arrived he made us do his trachy tapes but didn't have the energy to fight for the rest of his night time routine. So, I read him a story and we hugged goodnight.

And auntie has come up trumps again and got the window fixed.

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