Back in 1978, my father who was 73 at the time, was diagnosed with lung cancer. The surgeons attempted to take that lobe of the lung out, but his blood pressure kept going down too low, so they closed him up, and recommended cobalt treatments. The next afternoon he had a stroke. He was in a coma for almost two weeks. When he came out of it, he was paralyzed on one side, and couldn't talk. On June 20, 1978, the day they were going to move him to a nursing home, he suffered another stroke and died. My mother was in the hospital herself at the time, having been diagnosed with cervical cancer. After surgery, she was in isolation with radiation rods inserted in her. She wasn't even able to go to his funeral.
How awful, sorry to hear that.
When the doctors asked my mother if they had kids, and if so they should probably come, we all thought this was it and he would pass and be at peace - we’d all prepared for that. Even at the hospital registration, before I said a word, I saw a sticky note with his name saying “end of life”...I assume so the registrar would know family would be coming up. I was ok - knowing where he was going...but now this.
Thank you for your prayers.