When I
arrived at the hospital with Ethel and her daughter Ruth on
As time
went by, Ruth gradually began to perk up, especially during the evening, when she
made it absolutely clear, that she was determined to return home the following
week, although from looking at her, I thought that she would probably have to
wait until the start of the week after that.
By the time
Bill, Ida, Mandy, David and I left, she was in really good form. I did not feel so gloomy and hoped that when I
saw her the next day, she would be in the same sort of form as I had left her
that day.
At
one point, Ruth said that she would like to visit home the following Wednesday
and while there, she would like to try getting in and out of bed, going to the
bath and toilet and using the stairs etc.
It all sounded like a good idea, but I wondered whether she would be fit
for it or whether they would even consider letting her attempt it. I personally felt a little sick because,
although she was bright enough, I had this horrible feeling that the end was in
fact very near. I hoped I was wrong!
On Sunday
morning,
When I arrived in at
After he
left, we went to the smoking room, where she began to really perk up. We had a good long chat, during which she
seemed to be more amenable to the idea of going to the Hospice Rehab Unit. So I decided to inform Fiona Madden
accordingly, to see if we could make any further progress on that front.
It
was lovely sitting in the smoking room with Ruth. We were alone for most of the time and it
was so peaceful and tranquil. However,
although she still talked about going home, I could not see that happening for
a long time, if ever. She was just far
too weak and fragile. Furthermore, she
was definitely losing a lot of the power in her left hand. It was all so sad and I had this awful
feeling that the end was not far off.
But, once again, I hoped that I was wrong.
On
Ruth
told me that she had decided against visiting home the following week, which
was a wee bit of a relief to me. But
what was depressing was the fact that she had gone back to her original stance
yet again and wanted nothing to do with the hospice. Furthermore, she said she was convinced that
she was going to beat cancer and that she would be able to come home to live
quite soon. However, I felt that her
decline had been so rapid, that she would probably never see home again.
She asked
me if I really thought she could win this battle against cancer and I said I
did, but added that it might help if she got into the habit of continually telling
the cancer to get out of her body, as this could lead to spontaneous
regression, which is something I had been researching on the internet. But on reflection, I realised that this was
just a forlorn hope and that this sort of advice was never going to work. However, as long as she remained relatively
cheerful and had hope in her heart, then what did it matter!
After she
had had her lunch, we went to the smoking room and then for a walk around the
garden. She seemed in the best of good
form. However, when we got back to her bay, she sat
down in her chair and promptly fell asleep for around 4 hours, during which
time she sweated a lot.
After
she woke up and had had her tea, we went back to the smoking room, where once
again she was in great form and seemingly very happy. We then went to the bathroom, so she could
have a wash and that’s when she had another really bad attack of pain in her
right knee. Apparently she had had several other such
attacks during the previous night and also during the day. This new development was very worrying and I
hoped these pains were only temporary.
Although
Ruth was really gearing herself up to go home at the start of the following
week, none of the staff had talked to me about it yet.
There
were times that day, when I felt Ruth looked so good that she would last for
months. But then there were other
times, when she seemed so fragile, weak and vulnerable, that she did not look
like she would last more than a few more weeks. It was all so sad.
When I
arrived in on
Poor wee
Ruth, she had such a schizophrenic attitude towards her illness. On the one hand, it was obvious from the many
wee comments she had made over the previous months, that she had known, deep
down, right from the start, that she was doomed and that her cancer was going
to kill her, probably sooner rather than later.
On the other hand, she was also in denial about the seriousness of her
condition and would never let go of the hope that somehow or another, she would
beat this disease and survive (e.g. she used to really believe that with so
many people praying for her all over N Ireland and England, God would
definitely spare her). So this is why
she was never able to find any real peace of mind. There was always this perpetual conflict
going on, between, on the one hand, her awareness of the seriousness of her
condition and, on the other hand, her denial of the seriousness of her
condition. Obviously she preferred to try and cope through denial, so when
anyone tipped the balance and confirmed her worst fears, she would become very
upset.
We
had another conversation with Doctor H later on and Ruth indicated that she
would like to go home on either Sunday or Monday. Although I was asked for my opinion, I
could not express my real thoughts in front of Ruth and had to go along with
the idea. I had hoped that it would be
possible to speak to Doctor H on her own about Ruth, but the policy these days
is that doctors will only discuss a patient’s condition with relatives, if they
have that patient’s permission. It is
an understandable and reasonable policy, but it was very frustrating, because
it deterred me from asking the sort of pertinent questions I felt needed
answering.
Although
Ruth seemed to cheer up a wee bit later on, she dissolved into tears when
Adrian Armstrong (whom she adored) arrived some time later. Then Billy, Ethel and Ruth arrived and there
was more sadness. But later on, she was
in better form back in the smoking room and I remember thinking how remarkably
popular she was with literally everyone.
In fact, two other patients – Caroline and Alex – even told me on
separate occasions, that if it was down to them, they would prefer Ruth to
survive over themselves.
Then there
were more tears when Arlene Ellis and her sister Sharon arrived most
unexpectedly. But once again Ruth cheered up and there was a
lot of chatting and laughing. Both girls were very cheerful while they were
in Ruth’s company and this lifted Ruth’s spirits. However, I subsequently learned that as soon
as they got outside, they burst into tears, because they felt so sorry for
Ruth.
However,
it was what happened sometime later, when Ruth was getting ready for bed, that
was most alarming. Ruth
had been complaining of pains in her knees all day. However when Mandy went with Ruth into the
ladies to help her change from her top and pants into her pyjamas, Ruth
suddenly began to suffer from agonising pains in her knees, and the pain was so
bad she started wailing loudly and had to be given a diamorphine
injection. It was all so
distressing. Although Ruth would have
loved to have come home that coming weekend, I decided to tell them in the
hospital that until such times that I was happy that her pain was fully under
control, I would be against the idea of her being allowed home. I feared that the end was not far
away. The poor wee soul never wore
ordinary clothes ever again, while alive.
Ruth
remained relatively cheerful for the rest of the day, although tearful and in
pain at times. The physiotherapist examined her and said that
the pain in her knees was probably coming from shortened muscles in her leg,
especially the hamstring muscle.
Jimmy
Armstrong came and she enjoyed his company. Later
when Bill and Ida O’Donnell came, Ruth became very upset and tearful.
The
poor wee soul, I remember thinking that it was so awful that she could be dead
within a month or so. I could not stand
her mental and physical distress or the sight of her wasting away in front of
my very eyes.
To read
about Ruth’s fourth week as an inpatient in Ward 8B,
To return
to the start of this section, click on WEEK 3
AS AN INPATIENT
To return to
the very start, click on RUTH ELLIS