A DEATH TO DIE FOR

by Geoffrey Wilding

  After they had gone I lay on the bed and watched some telly while I waited for the nurse to come and administer the necessary drugs before settling down for the night, there was a bit of a clunk as the drugs trolley collided with the door frame and I looked across to see that it was not the usual nurse so I assumed that she was an agency nurse because of the different uniform.

  As she came close to administer the new antibiotic and diazepam through the cannula I noticed, as I had done once or twice before, that some of the night nurses must nip out for a quick cigarette during their shift as when close by they smelt strongly of tobacco smoke, however tonight there was the distinct sweet smell of an added smoking ingredient on this nurse and she had the long look of someone who is not really focused on what they are doing and when she spoke it was in quick almost excited short sentences.

  She came round the other side of the bed to administer the atropine injection, she took a pinch of skin and drove the needle in, it felt a little more sore than the previous night but I didn’t think a lot about it, she wiped the area with a swab tidied the syringes into the sharps box and left the room still chattering as she went.

  I tried to get off to sleep but I found my throat clagging up a bit more than it had done over the past couple of nights which caused me to have a little clearing cough every so often but eventually I must have drifted off.

  Thursday 8th December 2005

  The ‘early’ nurse went through her usual routine and the noise of her progress woke me, I felt rough this morning, I hadn’t slept very well at all and I also had a feeling of being unclean from not having had a shower the day before and because I knew that Helen was coming in early to help me take a shower this morning I just couldn’t be bothered to move from the bed until she got there.

  When she arrived she took off her coat and came towards the bed from the right hand side chiding me for being a lazy bones but as she got close she gasped, “Oh! my God what have they done to you now?”, not having looked in the mirror yet this morning I thought that she must be seeing some further manifestation of the recently acquired allergy to penicillin, but she started tugging at the sheet under me and tried to move my right shoulder, I twisted my head round and saw what she was looking at, there was a large pink patch on the bed linen next to me.

  Not knowing the cause she went and got hold of a nurse who came hurriedly into the room to look at the problem, Helen watched as she bent close and rubbed my shoulder and then left without saying anything so Helen had another close look herself and discovered two puncture marks in my skin, seemingly one entry and one exit as if the nurse on the previous evening had pushed the syringe needle right through the pinch of skin and emptied the atropine directly onto the bed and then my arm must have bled a bit and soaked into the wettened bed linen which had coloured the damp patch pink, it would explain the coughing during the night.

  The nurse came back accompanied by the senior nurse who also had a close look and a little embarrassed confirmed our suspicion, she said a report of the incident would be made and that if I could get out of the bed she would get someone to change the sheets, I suspect this was mostly due to the consultants visit expected later in the morning.

  As I wanted to get properly washed and shaved today before the next coating of steroid cream I made my way to the shower room with Helen in tow, while a bed changing team arrived and removed the evidence.

  I was scrubbed up and fresh as a daisy for the consultant’s visit and therefore not too keen when the little man in his blue plastic pinny and gloves turned up to recoat me, Helen smiled and said that she would go and get a cup of tea while I was being turned into a butterball.

  While she was away the consultant called in briefly, I had only been coated on one side at the time, so working around the cream applicator he picked up my file and reading the notes said that the request for me to have a PET scan had been put forward to the management team in Birmingham and a decision would be made on Friday or at the latest Monday and then I could be moved on the Tuesday.

  The little man finished rubbing in the cream and was just dropping his gloves etc. in the bin when Helen came through the door with a covered cardboard cup in hand and I told her of the consultants visit and that all being well I could be going to Birmingham next Tuesday.

  However by the time Helen returned to the room I was already starting to have doubts about the move, firstly if it achieved nothing I would have left this nice private room for a large hospital ward which would not be as pleasant a place to be and also it would be a lot more difficult for her to visit me as it would be 150mile round trip.

  Helen always looking for the positive said that anything that might lead to us being together for longer would be worth trying and she was sure that with the help of family and friends the travelling would not prove too much of a problem, so it was left that if the Birmingham hospital agreed to the PET scan then I would go for it and see where it lead.

  The duty doctor looked in through the corridor window and seeing we were on our own came into the room, he said that he had been in touch with the hospice coordinator and knowing about my life expectancy she had rearranged her diary so that she could come and see us tomorrow morning around 11.00am and he hoped that Helen could be there too, she replied that it would not be a problem.

  This information soured the mood somewhat particularly as we knew Alan(P) would be returning this weekend and that we had promised him the details of the funeral arrangements, this was a subject we had skirted around but I didn’t want Helen left with the task of sorting it all out afterwards and although it would be a difficult matter to discuss I felt that it would be better dealt with while I was still fully compos mentis and we were on our own.

  Although reluctant to air this subject Helen came and sat side by side with me on the bed, she placed her writing pad on her lap and I put my arm round her shoulder as we started, she sighed and said that she would like the service to be carried out at the local village church where the people we knew could come to say their goodbyes, I agreed but insisted that the one thing I didn’t want was to have a vicar who I had never met telling everyone at the funeral the few facts that he had managed to glean from her as if he had known me a long time.

  Alan had already said that he would speak for me therefore that part of the proceedings was easily settled, so it really came just came down to whether there would be any readings and what music I wanted to be remembered by, Helen wrote down the details as we discussed them and then placed the pad and pen on the bed, she turned and put her arms around my shoulders and through the sobs she whispered thankyou.

  In this current mood of reflection I felt that I needed to make some kind of gesture, possibly a lasting physical personal reminder of me for her to keep into the future, but what?

  I gently took hold of her hand and in that moment of tenderness a thought came to me and I put it to her that she might like to have a lock of my hair, her hand tightened on mine and with eyes wet with tears she was unable to respond save a trembling smile and nod of her head, I said that being the case I would rather she received it as a living gift than have her take it from my cold body.

  We embraced and with her head on my shoulder she said quietly that she would bring in some scissors when she visited later with Kate and Jim.

  I realised that in all the mornings hullabaloo regarding the bed sheets we had forgotten to have the cranberry ice which we found had now melted in the flask so Helen said she would see if any was left in the freezer and bring it back with her this evening.

  On my own again I decided to try and get some rest after the fractious sleep of last night, I was just beginning to dose off when I was abruptly woken by noise of a trolley crashing into the double doors across the corridor just outside my room, I rolled over to see that the porters had tried to push a strange looking bed trolley through the doors but that something must have been on the other side as they could not get through.

  The trolley looked like a normal
bed but it had a box on the top that seemed to have a solid metal top and canvas sides, after a bit of to-ing and fro-ing they managed to sort themselves out and they continued through the doors.

  I turned on my side again facing away from the door, there was another knock and I turned to find a familiar figure from the village standing in the doorway.

  I had over the years found that many small villages in Herefordshire have an incumbent retired professional such as a banker, solicitor or military person who by general consensus tend to evolve into the unelected de facto mayor and here was ours, bespectacled, well spoken, a keen gardener and genuinely interested in village matters.

  Dressed in a pair of corduroy trousers with a tweed jacket that had leather patches on the elbows and with his cap rolled up in his hands like a baton which made his knuckles go white he looked every bit the country gentleman, he did not sit at first but stood some way from the bed.

  In a less than firm voice he said that many of the villagers had made contact with him since hearing of my illness but because they did not want to bother Helen at this difficult time they had wanted through him for both of us to know that we were being thought of and prayed for and if there anyway in which they could help us and he had come along today on behalf of village to see what could be done.

  I thanked him and motioned for him to sit in the chair, I said that Helen wanted to have the funeral service at the local church but as we were not members would he as one of the church wardens be able to assist, I then went on to mention that at some future period the house would have to be put on the market and although she probably would not ask for it herself I would be grateful if he could rally the villagers to help her as it would be a considerable task for her to undertake on her own what with the family living so far away..

  He told me that neither matter would be a problem and after further assuring conversation I asked him if he would pass on my thanks to the villagers for their concern and for anyway in which they might assist Helen in the future, he said he would and then reached out and shook my hand in farewell, as he turned to leave he took his hanky out of his trouser pocket, he lifted his glasses off of his nose so that he could wipe his eyes and as he walked away down the corridor I could hear the metal heels of his shoes clicking on the floor and heard him blow his nose loudly.

  Time had moved on and although I really could have done with some sleep my evening visitors started arriving and as if by means of reward Kate had managed to find some of the cranberry ice left in the freezer so having been suitably adorned with protective tea towels against the inevitable coughing fit I was pleased to be able to perform my ice swallowing trick to this captive and I might add appreciative audience.

  Tired from the exertion I got back onto the bed and told Helen of my afternoon visitor and she said that it was nice of everyone to be thinking of us, I then mentioned the earlier commotion in the corridor outside, her expression tensed slightly and she said that someone on one of the wards must have past away and it would have been the mortuary trolley, it was difficult for us to try and keep our spirits up for very long when the finality of death was about us all the time.

  As the evening visiting came to a close Kate and Jim said that they would leave us alone for a while and once they had gone Helen produced a small pair of scissors and a short length of what turned out to be embroidery wool, she asked me from where she should take the lock of hair, I smiled and said preferably not a grey bit.

  Gently taking a small amount of my hair she secured it tightly with the length of wool and I could feel the crunching of the strands as she proceeded to cut through the lock of hair, once the deed was done she showed me the result, I took it from her in my right hand, kissed it and gently laid it in the open envelope she held in front of me which she then closed and placed in her bag along with the scissors.

  We held each other for what seemed the longest time before she left to take the others home.

  Later I was quite pleased to see that I had a different nurse to the night before to administer the injections and once done it did not take long for me to get of to sleep.

  Friday 9th December 2005

  I have always said that if the sun comes up and you’re still breathing then you have to do another day, and this felt like one that would be a struggle, I wasn’t looking forward to the meeting with the lady from the hospice nor with the dual coating of cream so I had a bad head on me when Helen arrived.

  I completed my ablutions with little conversation between us and having dressed I sat in the chair whereupon she produced another tranche of letters from her bag but I couldn’t really see the point of dealing with them today and put them unopened on top of the cupboard.

  My mood did not improve any when the cream applicator extraordinaire arrived so I just sat there in grim silence while he did his work, Helen realizing that she couldn’t perk me up said that she would go and get herself a cup of tea and come back later on for the meeting.

  Directly she had gone I felt guilty that I let my own vexations come between us, Helen was having to bear more than her fair share of the weight of everything that was piling down on us and I wanted her to come back quickly so that I could say that I was sorry, she must have prolonged her cup of tea because she did not return until just before the lady from the hospice was due, I could see that she had been crying.

  I got off of the bed and held her close with my right arm and said that I was deeply sorry, she put her hand on my chest and lifted her head and kissed me, my crabbiness fell away and we waited for our visitor.

  At the appointed time there was a knock at the door, we looked at each other tentatively and then Helen called for the visitor to come in, as she entered and introduced herself we could see that she was a middle aged lady with dark hair dressed in a dark jacket and skirt, having pulled up a chair to the end of the bed she took a pad and pen from her briefcase.

  She first asked us whether we knew of the hospice and how it worked, we said that we had a vague idea, she continued in a reassuring manner to explain what her role was and how the hospice system worked.

  After a while the conversation got round to the end game and she asked why we had chosen to apply for a place at the hospice rather than for me to spend my last days at home, I explained that Helen was actually in favour of the latter but that I felt strongly that I did not want to die at home and set out the reasons why, which she said that she could understand.

  I mentioned my concern that if I was sent to Birmingham hospital and things deteriorated quickly would I still be allowed to go the hospice so that I could end my days closer to my family and she affirmed that this would not be a problem and to know that agreeing to the PET scan would not close the door of the local hospice to me took a great weight off of my mind.

  We got onto the details of palliative care and what the closing stages might be like and I said that all I was really interested in was having enough pain killing drugs so that the ending could be as painless as possible for both me and my family and added that as far as possible I wanted to have some dignity in the process of dying, she assured us both that that was what the hospice system of care was intended for.

  She gave Helen some leaflets on the hospice and said that we could contact her at any time, she said that there would be no problem with my having a place at the hospice and not to worry as she would keep in touch with the hospital to monitor how things progressed.

  We thanked her for coming to see us and after she had gone we agreed that the visit had been a lot less harrowing than had been expected, it was good to know that no matter how bad it might get that there were people who knew exactly what to do and they were going to be there to support us both right up until the end.

  Helen said that she needed to get some shopping in for the folk who would be coming for the weekend visiting and that she would come back afterwards rather than visit this evening as she would need to be at the house when people arrived later.

  Probably because it was PO
ETS day the second application of cream was happily completed by early afternoon before she returned so I was hopeful that we would have no interruptions, what with the weekend visitors due to arrive and my transfer to Birmingham looming these times where Helen and I could be private were very precious.

  We spent the afternoon reminiscing about all the walks we had done when we first moved to the Hereford, it had been our ambition to climb to the top of all the high spots around where we lived from where we could see the house and look back to try and spot it, this task was made slightly easier by the very tall Wellingtonia tree which is situated in the small piece of woodland next to the house, I had always joked about sticking some Christmas lights on it one year with a big star at the top.

  As the afternoon went by it became difficult to avoid the awful truth of what lay ahead, at these times our discussions would wander through both real and surreal subjects which seems to be one of the effects that impending death can have on the mind.