Yesterday I had the conversation I have been thinking about and dreading for almost 10 months.
Yesterday I told our precious sons, aged 6 and 8, that their Daddy wasn't going to get better.
I sat them down beside me, reminded them how Greg and I had been to see the oncologist on Tuesday evening and that he had given us some news. I told them how I had been really hoping that Daddy was going to be feeling better after he had the radiation treatment but it looked like he wasn't going to after all.
I spoke about how Daddy had had a couple of falls in the last few days and that he was likely to have more of them. I reminded them how Daddy had been confused just before, and when, he was in hospital and said that it was likely to happen again and more often. I told them that the Dr had said that there wasn't any kind of treatment he could give Daddy to try to stop the tumour. The medicine he has now will be to make him comfortable and stop him from having any pain.
I explained how Silver Chain people had been coming to the house so that they can help us look after Daddy and that Daddy was seeing Dr Mark, our GP, every week so that he could 'keep an eye' on him and see if anything started to change.
I told them that Daddy wasn't going to get better.
I reminded them how we had been to see the counsellor on Saturday and that she was going to help us all with our feelings. I told them how much we love them and how sad it is that this is happening. I said it is OK to cry, it's good to cry (oddly, none of us did).
When we saw the counsellor today, she had a play-therapy session with them both and then said to me that it was quite clear to her that they knew what was going to happen and it was also clear to her that they weren't ready to talk about it yet.
I will need all the courage, strength and wisdom I can muster to help them through this.
It is overwhelming.
