Hospital vigil continued....

Day eight.

Mum is asleep when I arrive at 11.30 and nothing will rouse her at lunchtime. Not even the vigorous shaking of a hefty female nurse who, for her troubles, receives a brief torrent of bleary eyed invective from Mum. Having delivered it Mum immediately returns to a comatose like state. Mum still isn't eating. I notice she is not connected to the drip today.

The Registrar arrives at 2.30 to drain fluid from Mum's right lung. Magically Mum opens her eyes as the Registrar reaches the bed. There follows a debate about Mum's capacity to cooperate with the draining procedure. I am doubtful. I feel it will be difficult to get Mum to sit still and am also fearful she will lash out at the medical staff. The Registrar ponders not proceeding. Ominously she tells me Mum might have to return to the drip and we 'let nature take its course'. I don't ask for clarification. I'm pretty sure I know what she means.

The Registrar and I agree we should make an attempt at the procedure and if Mum can't cooperate then so be it. The Registrar calls for two wardsmen, a nurse and a junior medical officer. She asks me to be present as a reassurance for Mum.

Once we are all present, the wardsmen attempt to get Mum sitting on the side of the bed. She resists for a while and then complies. They get her to lie forward over the bedside tray whilst I position myself in her line of sight and hold her hands. The Registrar, the junior medical officer and the nurse then commence the procedure.

I can't see it all but I can see the enormous plunger, the dimensions of a Gay size-Queen's dildo, drawing copious amounts of fluid from Mum's back. I lose count of the number of drainings but that plunger takes more than ten full loads. Mum starts to get restless towards the end but the procedure is accomplished.

Mum is shaking at the end of it. The nurse tells me this is because she has stiffened up whilst being held down and her muscles are reacting now that she has been released. At least I think that is the explanation. I feel more drained than I imagine Mum is and cannot at that moment take it all in.

Mum is repositioned in her bed and, as though a button has been pressed, she falls back to sleep without delay. The nurse awakens Mum ten minutes later to feed her some puree. Mum spits it out, swears and lashes out at the nurse. How lucky were we for Mum's cooperation during the draining.

A short while later Mum is wheeled out to have yet more x-rays taken and is returned after thirty minutes still asleep. I sit with Mum for a few more hours talking to her occasionally and she remains asleep the whole time. She seems to be breathing easier and deeper than before. I assume that is the effect of the draining.

I leave at 5 o'clock; another 5+ hours of bedside vigil completed.