Adjustment

Initiate panic mode.
This isn't the Hollywood movie where the hero gets sick and dies why the heroine looks mournfully out to sea from a cliff-top bathed in white, wind whipping her hair with the solitary tear rolling down her cheek (Gag, choke, splutter - spare us please).
Reality check = 3 weeks to 3 months to live, possibly beyond that if we are lucky however "unlikely".


Trying to get your head around that is near impossible. I mean we knew he was considered "terminal", but everything had been going "okay" that was until an infection and blood clot changed everything and within the time frame of twelve days, J.J's physical age is probably that of an unfit 80 year old. He shuffles, he's out of breathe.


One of J.J's friends made a comment at the beginning of this blog that he/she didn't want this blog to be a blow by blow of his deterioration - and to tell you the truth, I didn't want that either. You wanted to see entries about amazing acts of life that we somehow managed to accomplish but reality check - despite desperately wanting to fulfil that goal, he was never able to. He was either feeling too ill from the treatments or they were lining up dates for the treatment. Radiation alone ate up roughly ten weeks altogether; hospitalisations occurred, as did surgery. And now it feels too late. 
J.J had wanted to do Broken Hill and Tasmania. Yet his health prevents this. And he doesn't want to be too far from home now. I'm just glad that prior to J.J getting cancer he has lived. He has travelled, experienced life, had a family, found a career that satisfied him. He's seen so many things that some of us will never get to see and I hope our daughter inherits that gypsy persona so that she too will experience life at warp speed just in case...


Being referred to the Palliative care unit = change, adjustment, readjustment and feeling like your drowning.  We had equipment delivered to the house, a hospital bed for when we need it, a Rollie walker, hospital table and shower chair.  


On Good Friday, the day begun with  relatively normal type behaviour from all involved. We were due our first visit from our local Pal care unit team. J.J noticed that there was no flow from his catheter and it was being uncomfortable. He decided to wait for the Pal visit yet it got so unbearable for him that we opted for the E.R. On a public holiday we had a bit of a wait. It's funny how you think someone who has terminal cancer, now apart of the pal care unit and you have to wait. You're already waiting to die and you would think that they would get you in, get you out so you can  live as much life as possible before the final curtain....but J.J was made to wait as the E.R staff had "handover" to go through first. The man is sweaty, he is cold and clammy, can barely stand and now you are asking him to stand while you have a shit and a giggle with your co-workers. Somehow, I expected him to get seen relatively quickly, I guess even being terminal you get no special treatment when it comes to our local hospital's E.R department.  
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                
We are in adjustment mode. Learning how to cope, how to live, how to be. J.J's inclination to the Internet has waned somewhat, so I do not know how much input he will have here, I'll try to keep you all updated if you wish without dominating this blog with my own feelings yet I can't promise they wont come creeping through as I do not wish to be negative around him so it is best that it comes out here.
Short one tonight....more when I get the chance later on.