"Not a nice cancer to have...."

Dad was less settled last night - he coughed a lot. I went in a few times but he seemed to be sleeping so I didn't disturb him.

He was sick just after 7.45am. Strange brown stuff. I kept it for the District Nurse to look at in case it is something we need to flag with the doctor.

I am now nursing both mum AND dad! Earlier this week mum's vein popped again, and she has to take it easy when that happens. Well, all the sitting about with her feet up has now made her back go and she's in agony this morning. So I'm staying here overnight and will go home tomorrow morning (and let my sister take over at the weekend).

It's not fun to be looking after mum. She is the worst patient in the world, ever! She hates being dependent on others and so instead of just getting on with it, she gets very upset and stressed about it all. Thus causing stress for her carers!! LOL.

Dad, on the other hand, is a dream patient. He just accepts that he needs looking after, and so long as he still feels in charge of things, he gets on with it without complaint.

Even cooking for mum is a nerve-wracking experience. She is a bit of a creature of habit, to the extent that she has the food set out on her plate in a certain way. I did her some salmon fish cakes with salad the other night and got the tomatoes and mayonnaise in the wrong place!

I hope you read that in the light hearted spirit in which it was intended... I love my mum to bits but she has some funny ways (as do we all).

The District Nurse just said to keep an eye on Dad if he's sick again. She wasn't sure if the vomit had coffee grounds in it (dried blood from the stomach) but said it shouldn't have been because he's on Clexane. Didn't look like coffee grounds to me (which we saw when he was in hospital after his INR level went out of control). I was concerned it could be faecal vomiting but Gail didn't think so - said it seemed more like food stuff.

After Gail (District Nurse) left, she phoned the house to say she had lost her mobile phone and could we do a search for it. So we did. Everywhere. Including the rubbish bag containing all the remnants of her treatment of Dad today (wound dressings and various other clearing up stuff). Thank goodness for rubber gloves! Bottom line was we couldn't find the phone and she later discovered she'd left it at home!!

We had visitors tonight - Joan, Zodie and Wally. Joan is my cousin - we were extremely close as kids and into our young adulthood. Zodie (nickname! Real name Steve!) is her husband and Wally is my Uncle (Joan's dad). Dad was delighted to see them. Joan had me in stitches remembering some of the things we used to do to torment our poor Nana! Dad was delighted to see them. He told Wally that the aim of the care plan is to keep him comfortable and pain free, and as long as that is how it goes, he's happy. What a guy - he must spend ages working this through in his head, and to settle for that (and not to moan about what he can't do) is quite an achievement, I think.

Quite funny to hear my Uncle rapidly change the subject when Dad got a bit graphic about certain aspects of his illness (its the obsession with poo that raises its head a lot!) and also talking about how "those girls (me and Lol) have seen every inch of me now, and the things they do are amazing". Also funny to hear Dad crediting Dr Rathbone with him getting care allowance. Um, yeah... I do recall Lorraine and I sitting on the phone to the DWP and also spending ages filling the forms in, LOL!

It's great to have visitors but it does stir up the emotional side of my head, too, when they come. We kind of live in our little bubble of the daily routine and so when "outside influences" come in we have to see them with Dad, and talk to them about Dad, and see how they react to seeing him. It definitely unsettles me. Not that I would change things - I love to have a variety of people visiting Dad, it is good for him.

Dad was sick again when the carers came. This time he lost his spaghetti hoops (which had been his tea) and some of the raisins from the bread and butter pudding he had at lunchtime. He ate a few scoops of ice cream later on tonight.

Dr Samid, after he'd spoken to Lorraine and I about Dad's confirmed diagnosis on 8th March, ended his conversation with some disturbing words. "This is not a nice cancer to have". He followed up by saying that no cancer is nice, but pancreatic cancer in particular was not good. It has played on my mind a bit ever since, but I didn't ever ask him or try to second guess exactly what he meant. I suppose some of the stories I've seen on various cancer websites has given me an idea of why this isn't a nice cancer. I just hope the vomiting isn't the start of Dad moving into another, more horrible, stage illness.

More than anything I just want him to go peacefully - even if that means suddenly. I don't want the final stages dragged out and filled with nasty symptoms and side effects.