Well, I’d been poorly, but this story isn’t about me, it’s about my Dad and one he has encouraged me to write.
It was 4th September, the Twinkles first day of year 4 and I wasn’t feeling ill enough to still be off work.
We’d had a lovely night with Grandad the night before. I hadn’t had the energy to take the boys to football so we’d eaten dinner together at the table and then opted for a popcorn pudding whilst snuggling up in the lounge to watch Bad Guys 2. Once the boys had gone to bed, Dad and I opted for a peppermint and licorice tea instead of our usual bottle of pink fizz, that tells you how poorly we were. Dad reminisced about a trip to Tuscany with Mum and shared an album which contained some fabulous photos of sports cars, a story for another time maybe.
It really had been a delightful night.
Fast forward to Thursday morning, the boys were ready for school and I had taken the obligatory first day back photo. Harry kindly reminded me that the year before they hadn’t played ball and I’d got so cross I’d thrown my mobile on the floor and stormed out. Listen, two things, we are all entitled to a tantrum now and then and I have an indestructible mobile phone case.
I took a cup of tea up to Dad and he was strangely sat on the side of his bed. He said he’d been finding it uncomfortable to lie down so I plumped up his pillows for him and demonstrated how he could be comfortable and upright, but I was in a bit of a rush.
I remember thinking that he looked like a cross between a slim Santa or that Fisherman off the advert for fishfingers, Captain Birdseye? Ooh I could murder a posh fishfinger and tartare sauce sandwich right now, but I am fasting, again, a story for another time.
Of I went to work a bit dazed and confused.
It was just after 09:00, 09:10 to be precise and I received a call from Dad which lasted 21 seconds.
He said he was struggling to breathe and thought he might be in trouble.
My Dad tried to drive himself to hospital the first time he had a heart attack so this call meant business.
I called 999 whilst trying to pack my work stuff up and turning to my colleague and saying I needed to get home. Nicky jumped to action and ushered me out. I’m not sure if I actually packed my laptop away it was a blur. My concern was that Dad was in the bedroom upstairs and the paramedics would not be able to get in.
I was still on the phone to emergency services whilst trying to get the bloody NCP app to work to get into the car park to retrieve my car. Once in the car it wouldn’t transfer my call to handsfree so I was shouting over speaker and she then also wanted my Dads mobile number. For goodness sake! I did not have the hippy, hippy, shakes!
I called Dad back and he was on the line to the ambulance crew who had called him.
I drove up to the house (now singing the theme tune to The Fresh Prince of Bellair – I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8…..) and noticed the porch door was closed, but the front door open. I thought, well done Dad. But it went further than that. The man, the legend, the Grandad had (whilst struggling to breathe) got dressed including his boots, made the bed, washed his cup, put the dogs safely in the kitchen, opened the front door and found his car keys and placed them on the mantle piece. The twins were most impressed with this and relayed it to their school class the next day.
I came into the lounge and sat next to him. He was REALLY struggling to breathe. I tried to calm him with some breathing techniques we use for the boys ADHD. I just kept talking to him and holding his hand but he was getting worse and rattling, they call it the death rattle.
At 09:29 I called 999 again. The guy asked if it was my Dad rattling in the background he could hear down the line, it was. He was starting to get agitated and tried to stand up, he got a proper telling off for that. Then all of a sudden it looked like his tongue swelled up and was filling his mouth. He had to force himself backwards to try to get air in.
I shouted at the emergency person, “he is literally dying right now”
We were on the line for a very traumatic 7 minutes until I heard the ambulance crew arrive. I yelled, they’re here and threw my mobile down, thank heavens for the indestructible case.
It was like Dad gave up and his head just fell to his chest.
They were two slight females so I helped them pull Dad to the lounge floor as I am built like a brick outhouse and strong which has its uses.
He was not responding. He was not breathing.
I shouted at him,
“Come on Dad, you can do this! You are strong, you are stubborn, you are resilient, do it for the twins!”
With that he squeezed my hand, only gently, but definite pressure.
I could tell the paramedics were concerned. They called another crew with better gear who turned up in minutes.
I had been at Dads side, holding his hand, but with 4 paramedics they needed room to work, so I offered to leave and strangely also offered them a drink, which they declined as they were a tad busy.
Don’t we do strange things when we’re in shock?
I went and sat in the conservatory with the dogs and burst into tears. I text Lee to let him know what was happening, but told him there was no point in him coming home and to just ask work if he could leave early to collect the twins from school later. He told me not to worry, he had our home life covered and kept supporting me through text as and when I needed it.
Dad’s heart had stopped, but they managed to get it going again.
One paramedic then came and told me he was too sick to take to Southmead hospital in Bristol so they would take him to Weston to “stabilise”.
Getting the stretcher out the house was a veritable assault course as it couldn’t get through the front door so involved ripping the dog gate off (not even being dramatic), throwing obstructions out the way, moving the hot tub, calling the husband to ask where the key for the side gate was etc
With everything going on I remember the dogs being so good. I’d put them on leads and were dragging them all over the place as all the doors were open and then giving them cuddles intermittently.
Dad was in one of the ambulances and I just needed to get the house back into lockdown mode, but the paramedic made it clear I had to be quick. I couldn’t go in the ambulance, I knew I would need my car.
I wasn’t going to admit this bit to my husband, but I was out of diesel. He always tells me off for this, saying, what if there’s an emergency?
So I took a detour to Tesco to fill up. I remember thinking what a lovely sunny day it was.
I made it to A&E and was told by a frosty receptionist to sit in the waiting room as my father had only been there 19minutes! I told her I was only doing what I was told to.
Within minutes she came round to walk me to the relatives room, through a burrow of winding passages. Her demeanour had softened and she said they couldn’t have me waiting in the main area, to which I was sure they were going to tell me he’d died.
I asked her if she could please get me the name of the paramedics as I wanted to somehow thank them and for them to get recognition from the NHS for how professional, kind and nice they had been.
I was then alone in the small room and realised I had Dads boots on my lap and his bag. Somehow I’d thought to grab it all in case they needed to know the medication he was on.
The lights went out. Awkward. I had to wave my arms to get them to go back on.
Then a new receptionist came in with the names of the first responders. She went on to say that they were near by and should she send them in??? She then said I could go out and see them. I must have looked a picture just sat on that small two seater clutching my Dads boots. I said I was very sorry, didn’t mean to seem ungrateful or put her out but I just wanted their names to be able to thank them which she then gave me and walked off.
The light went back out luckily as then one of the earlier paramedics walked past and must have assumed the room was empty, I didn’t feel like chatting.
A doctor came in to see me. Dad’s heart had stopped again in the ambulance and was only operating at 20% and had likely been like this for a while. I could see he felt uncomfortable so I assured him he didn’t need to sugar coat anything as Dad had been preparing me for this for a while and only last week had texted to say he was 83 and had had a good innings. I also told him he drives a convertible sports car which made him smile. I should have also told him that he’d had 17m views on TikTok!
They needed to see how he responded in the next 30 minutes. Thankfully this then flourished into the next 24hours.
I went to see him. It was now about 10:17. I held his hand and said my goodbyes and made sure to tell him all the wonderful things I might regret not having the chance to say. He kept squeezing my hand. It was time to text my brothers and let them know the score.
They needed to do something medical so I was back in the relatives room.
Then two ladies and a handy man turned up. They had some art work to put up and one of them was the actual artist who was called Kate, had been inspired by the flowers on Brean Down and had a fat cat who does not like to go outside.
I offered to leave, but they said they didn’t want to disturb me and I should stay. Then the handyman actually started to drill! I could have poked him with my foot he was so close. It actually made me smile. I was still holding Dads boots.
I found a seat and sat in the corridor and that’s where Ella, one of the nurses found me. She smelt delicious of caramel. Apparently it was from Lush. Dad had managed to tell her he’d had a previous heart attack and had literally seen the light so was not worried about dying. I talked to her about this some more as she’d not had this experience before and wanted to be able to reassure her patients moving forward. She also gave me a bag for the boots which was handy.
We spoke to many doctors. Many nurses tried to take Dads blood and failed as there was not enough pressure to push it around.
I left him to go on a mission to find a Pepsi Max. I hadn’t eaten and needed the caffeine. I think it was around 14:00.
I got lost, but luckily bumped back into Kate the artist who walked me to reception and a shop.
I also got lost on the way back but a jolly nurse in blues walked me back to my Dad.
My brother Nick showed up soon after 16:00.
Dad had stabilised enough for them to move him to a respiratory ward. They’d determined he had pneumonia which was the route of all evil in Dads body.
They tried to swap his oxygen for a potable machine and Dad grabbed their hand and fought them off. I stepped forward to reassure him that they weren’t trying to murder him and it was all above board. I had also heard him tell them not to vaccinate him with anything, so he definitely seemed to be improving.
We made it to the ward and Dad was in and out of consciousness. The antibiotics were starting to work and his tongue had gone back to normal size but there was no way he was able to breathe without the machine.
The latest verdict is that he has made it through the first 24 hours, is responding to medication which is drawing the fluid off his lungs and out of his body, but he is still too weak to breathe for himself so not out of the woods yet.
Yesterday I took the boys to their first football match of the season. This was important to Dad as he had a love for football and used to be a referee. He asked me to take pictures and videos and said if he died while they were playing at least it would be while they were doing something he loved. I didn’t relay this message to his Grandsons.
We have had a chance to have some really good quality time together. I told Dad he didn’t need to go this far for attention! We also snickered that I’d told one of the many doctors I was his sixth wife when he rudely demanded who are you?!
Yesterday Dad asked me to wash his pants and socks from the bag I’d brought in just in case he makes it out, good thinking. I grabbed them and stuffed them in my bag. On the way home I decided to go via Nect to return Ollies faulty trainers. I don’t know why, it just seemed important. Maybe because it would feel normal. I hadn’t eaten or slept again and the cashier was being difficult and asking a lot of questions. We got it sorted in the end but as I went for my purse Dads pants fell out of my bag and onto the counter. We both looked at them and then each other. In what felt like slow motion I reached out and put the offending article back into my bag, thanked him and left!
Right, I’m getting tired and need to get on with the day so I can go back and visit Dad.
Love and hugs, kisses and wishes and make the most of every little second you have with your loved ones, you never know how long you actually have xxxxx
A cheeky little Twinkle update xxx 