Well, things have moved forward hugely into what feels like a very completely different space.
Last night I was desperate, on my knees. When H came round I was begging him for a pill to help me die. I just felt so exhausted and unable to go on, that it was all such a struggle.
H and I were trying so hard and working so hard to get little bits of nutrition in place – rice protein, hot water and ginger tea with sugar, two scoops a day of protein. A great joy was I could drink carefully and I enjoyed hot rice protein etc. But I had to work at it.
Anyway, decided boys should come in with R later to say “good night”. They arrived very upset and I basically told them I was dying. They cried and cried, J can’t stop. I spoke as honestly as I say here. Soon, all cried out, they left…..
I’m finding it very hard to focus on this, keep drifting…. I hope someone is going to be able to make sense of this.
H stayed the night. I started taking diamorphine to keep comfortable. I hadn’t accepted how much pain I was in and have never realised how it was treatable or accepted. It’s been so good to get comfortable.
So this morning I was so much more comfortable when D and L came in to see me. We decided we’re on the right track: the criteria are happiness and comfort – a challenge I know. But not continuation of life.
The boys came back in and we had a session to explain that although – obviously I hadn’t died, that I would be quite soon. J is crying all the time and phoned to talk, desperate for me to be able to get better, understandably wanting me to do something.
I realise that I need to stop eating, which feels now like a relief. So I had protein this morning but not tonight. I’m still enjoying weak Ribena. I can’t focus anymore…
We know this is Flick’s last blog. We knew she would leave us sometime and for me I thought I’d done the mental preparation. As a nurse I sat with many people as they died, but the sadness when I heard on Friday that Flick was really gone swept through me, draining the warmth from my soul. She was passionate, compassionate, funny, clever, and sometimes drove me mad! but the goodness of her heart and spirit always shone through as did her love for “H adn the Boys”. Goodnight Flick.
Condolences from Calabash Trust, South Africa .
On behalf of Calabash Trust Executive,Board and Team, our sincere condolences to Flick Thorpe’s family and friends. We appreciate her valuable contribution to Calabash Trust’s Nutrition and Education Programmes in the underpriviledged schools and communities of Port Elizabeth , Eastern Cape, South Africa during 2010.
Kind Regards,
Sharole Moss
Executive Director
from Hanna Staffel: …THESE ARE HOLY HEARTS, GOD’S GIVEN US HOLY HEARTS, GOD LOVES THROUGH THESE HEARTS AND SO THESE HEARTS ARE HOLY… RIP Felicity Thorpe
Dear Flick
This is to say goodbye and thank you for the blog.
You were my friend for over half my life, when times were hard you were there for me, and I tried to do the same for you. Even though we lived a long way from each other for most of that time, whenever we picked up the phone or met up it was the continuation of a conversation. In recent times it was so good to have the blog to turn to in between those conversations.
It seems no time at all since I was up in Scotland while H and the boys were away in Canada, making the fire, listening to the rain sweeping through the garden, and just appreciating the opportunity to be with you and sit and talk. I have at last succumbed to your encouragement to take up meditation. As you recommended I’m trying Meditation for Dummies which is about the right level for me. I do it lying down – which is very comfortable although there is a danger I’ll fall asleep. I’m managing around ten minutes a day – which for me is an achievement. I concentrate on breathing and remembering sitting quietly in the armchair in your bedroom overlooking the garden while you meditated, listening to the Tibetan bowls and the crackling fire – surrounded by the scent of the burning wood.
These are memories which will stay with me for the rest of my life. Yours was an extraordinary life well lived. You were my role model and I learnt so much from you – most of all how to try to make the best of what life brings.
Goodbye.
Love D.