I'm really glad I went to see my Aunt yesterday, and stopped feeling sorry for myself because I was achin' and a shakin'.
She's not at all well and the first thing she did when we went in was to tell us we shouldn't have come. Because she is too weak to feed herself, they let us in before visiting to assist her with her feeding.
They are still not giving her any treatment yet because they still aren't sure if it is Wilson's disease. They do however give her two enemas a day, which resulted in her screaming for a bed pan, meaning she couldn't have her tea at all because it had gone past it's safe to eat time. They did offer to make her some soup though, which she turned down.
Flushing her out, and getting rid of the toxins her liver isn't shifting, seems to be working though. She wasn't suffering from paranoid dillusions about cameras and her being recorded all the time, so that is some good news.
I went to wipe her face with a tissue and she told me not to touch her because I would catch it, and that she loved me, and didn't want me to die as well. She also said it might be cancer.
Thankfully because she wasn't dillusional, I was able to tell her calmly that what she has isn't contagious or cancerous. She listened to me, which she hasn't to any of us for a while. I also made her understand that on Friday they might know if it is Wilson's disease and that it is treatable, leaving out the bit that if it's too advanced it's fatal. She needed hope, she's as weak as a kitten with tubes and drips coming out of everywhere. If she can bear the next few days of being poked and prodded she might be ok.
My Uncle and Cousin have been very strong until yesterday. When my Aunt told them if she was going to die she wanted to be at home, and to see her two grandchildren again. All the nine weeks of them being brave crumbled. My Aunt asked them why they were crying, I quickly came in with the fact that the nurses told us to make her drink and she hadn't, and that they were worried, I got her to listen whilst the others composed themselves.
I kissed her goodbye, leaving them with ten minutes or so together. I was good, not a flinch, but as soon as I turned away the tears rolled down my face. By the time I reached the end of the corridor I'd gone. Ten minutes later though I'd got my composure back, and was able to give my big ruffty tuffty Uncle and Cousin a hug in the lift as they wept uncontollably.
Roll on Friday, when there is a glimmer of hope that they will start some treatment, although we won't know for sure if it is this disease for another two weeks when the resuls come back from London.
She's not at all well and the first thing she did when we went in was to tell us we shouldn't have come. Because she is too weak to feed herself, they let us in before visiting to assist her with her feeding.
They are still not giving her any treatment yet because they still aren't sure if it is Wilson's disease. They do however give her two enemas a day, which resulted in her screaming for a bed pan, meaning she couldn't have her tea at all because it had gone past it's safe to eat time. They did offer to make her some soup though, which she turned down.
Flushing her out, and getting rid of the toxins her liver isn't shifting, seems to be working though. She wasn't suffering from paranoid dillusions about cameras and her being recorded all the time, so that is some good news.
I went to wipe her face with a tissue and she told me not to touch her because I would catch it, and that she loved me, and didn't want me to die as well. She also said it might be cancer.
Thankfully because she wasn't dillusional, I was able to tell her calmly that what she has isn't contagious or cancerous. She listened to me, which she hasn't to any of us for a while. I also made her understand that on Friday they might know if it is Wilson's disease and that it is treatable, leaving out the bit that if it's too advanced it's fatal. She needed hope, she's as weak as a kitten with tubes and drips coming out of everywhere. If she can bear the next few days of being poked and prodded she might be ok.
My Uncle and Cousin have been very strong until yesterday. When my Aunt told them if she was going to die she wanted to be at home, and to see her two grandchildren again. All the nine weeks of them being brave crumbled. My Aunt asked them why they were crying, I quickly came in with the fact that the nurses told us to make her drink and she hadn't, and that they were worried, I got her to listen whilst the others composed themselves.
I kissed her goodbye, leaving them with ten minutes or so together. I was good, not a flinch, but as soon as I turned away the tears rolled down my face. By the time I reached the end of the corridor I'd gone. Ten minutes later though I'd got my composure back, and was able to give my big ruffty tuffty Uncle and Cousin a hug in the lift as they wept uncontollably.
Roll on Friday, when there is a glimmer of hope that they will start some treatment, although we won't know for sure if it is this disease for another two weeks when the resuls come back from London.
