Closing In

I have no idea how to put it into better words, but on Monday morning Scooby began the process of dying. He changed very quickly overnight and we are working very hard on keeping him stable and comfortable. I don’t want to go into details of what it’s like to watch – I’m sure you could imagine and probably don’t want to. The blessing is that the shaking that has plagued him for so long is gone – his muscles are completely rested.

He’s had a few moments each day where he’s communicated with us a little bit, and a few moments each day when we thought it was all over and then he’s restabilised again. He is living up to his nickname of Tenacious D but we have reminded him that he doesn’t have to. He can go whenever he feels he is ready.

Waiting is the worst agony we’ve ever known. One minute there is peace, the next there is fear, then there is hope. There is a lot of weariness mixed in with a huge amount of adrenaline – everytime his sats dip or I think about what the end will look like, this surge goes through my body – plus a million thoughts about the past, present and future, which all means it is impossible to sleep.

Richard and I are both here, thanks to the amazing support of family in Preston who are looking after the others. It’s hard being away from them and not knowing how long this will take, but they are being very well looked after. On Monday we sat with the two older boys and explained to them what was going to happen. We’d told them a couple of weeks ago that the doctors thought their brother was not going to get better, but we realised later that what they had heard from that was that he was going to stay the same. Explaining to them this time, over hot chocolate in the hospital canteen, what it actually meant was heartbreaking.

We still have the hope that the One who is Lord of Life and Defeater of Death will step in. I have given Him approximately one gazillion reasons why it would be a really great idea, but I’m still standing on faith for Him to make the right decision. This involves a lot of ignoring how I feel and a lot of looking upwards. It hurts, but you already know that.