My father is on life support. He’s still talking, but things he’s saying aren’t coherent or make much contextual sense. Cancers spreading through his body are eating him up. And all I hope for is that he’s on good enough meds to make it not hurt anymore.
He’s been sick for a while, but our local hospital is not worth the toenails of the people they’re “treating”, and I will absolutely get vocal about it once this situation ends. There were many instances where they found blood where blood was not supposed to be, and he complained about stomach aches, kidney pains, and things like that (like persistent cough) for a while now. So they knew. And they chose to leave it at “ah, he has type II diabetes, must be complications, let’s change up the meds and see what happens”. This would inevitably grow worse, family doctor would get frustrated with our instance on check-ups, and pass him onto another one. He changed several, for none wanted the work this man was.
On June 18th I woke up to voices of strangers in my home. Mum has called an ambulance, and what an insolent woman came. She checked his vitals, told us he’s fine, even though he couldn’t get up, and was bed-ridden for three months. Then grated our asses for waiting this long: we didn’t. We called ambulance time and time again. We called family doctor and begged for a home visitation. None happened. Ambulance would come, check vitals, and ignore the pain this man was talking nonsense about. What pain if your vitals are fine, right?
After what was an extended arguing between this woman I don’t wish to call a medic, this ambulance driver, she finally agreed to take him in, and we had to carry the 100 kilos weighting man who couldn’t walk – down two flights of stairs and into the ambulance, because this woman came alone, unprepared, and near-rolling her eyes said “well, help him in, -I- can’t carry him!”
An hour in ER, with nurses and staff flocking around coffee machine and just watching the circus we wait for anyone at all. Father is starting to turn this human shade of purple-red, and is very clearly fainting. Mum screams, they rush in with the bed on wheels, and as we, yes, still mum and I, lift him into it – he faints.
Days go by, we bring him clothes and cool water or mineral water to drink, just to get told he’s fine, he’s talking, he’s laughing, vitals are good. Until at last we find his doctor’s number and ask her about it: his stomach is getting soft, there’s liquid in one of his lungs (the same he complained hurts really bad, to a point where he would only lay on his other side), but otherwise he’s fine. Do you feel my rage yet?
Again, days go by, there’s absolutely no filling of his medical file that we have access to as family online, so we call again. This time we’re answered by a different family doctor: yet another one quit the man who needed more help than just a prescription. This one too said he’s sick but he’s fine, just in more words.
June 29th father calls (he called almost every day to just generally talk a little bit, and so we followed the progress of him losing coherence, for he made less and less sense), and this is the last somewhat clear chat we have with him. He says, and I quite: bring me some clothes to change in, smaller t-shirt than the ones I have, they’re taking me to Vilnius (Lithuania’s Capital) for surgery.
We rush in, give him everything, BEG for nurses to give us his old clothes for washing, because we’re running out of his clothes by now, and go home to wait again. Due to covid-19 situation, people, visitors, aren’t yet allowed.
June 30th they take another Covid test, which is 24hrs, and on July 1st nurse calls us, urgently, to bring him clothes to change in, they’re taking him to Vilnius. There’s urgency in the air. As we’re lifting him out of wheel chair into the ambulance, he falls down and the four of us barely lift him up, barely conscious by now.
Since then he calls us every morning, very early, and says the same line: bring me some cold soda, would you? We kindly ask him where he lays (since such information isn’t necessarily available even to family member, and we need to write it on the bag for nurses to take it to him), and he, in a serious child tone says: I will find out and call you back.
He never does, of course, and likely soon forgets all about it, being on many meds, stress, pain relievers, and being generally very, very weak.
Today (July 3rd) we called in again, and got told that metastasis is spreading through his body, rapidly, and that no, we can’t, and absolutely shouldn’t bring him any drinks, he’s on the primer life support. It’s a matter of time now, but they’re doing all they can, which is seemingly more than Elektrenai ever did, to allow him as much time as they can. They took him to Vilnius and accepted that he’s not “all fine, talking, laughing with the nurses” after around 5th day of him not being able to hold down any food at all. And so I pray, I hope, I wish, that he’s at least on meds enough now not to feel the pain he was in for months, all while his vitals, blood pressure and such, were good, and therefore nobody besides his immediate family gave a damn.
I myself am preparing for the worst, because now everything falls on me. My mother, our home, even my older sister, they’re all on me. Together with what hospital bills there might be, the trips to Vilnius that we are taking sparingly, because 50km by bus is both a bit pricey and dangerous what with pandemic still being active. And the future funeral.
Some of you know me already, and know what hell I’ve gone through already. Please know right now I’m entering another circle of it. Maybe the last one, one can only hope. And so I beg of you, if anyone can help somehow, be it money or advice, a share or a kind word, any and all would be appreciated beyond what I can put into words. I’m numb from the pain that comes from the very core of a child’s soul when one is losing a parent, when one knows they can do nothing to save this parent. Whatever he was, however he was, he deserved better than this.
Don’t feel obliged, but if you got something to spare, both I and my mother would appreciate it