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I think my uncle is dying, on the wrong side of the world
He and my aunt flew out to New Zealand last Monday. They were really excited. Their youngest daughter and her family live in Christchurch and they've not seen each other in person for four years. This trip has been long in the planning and even longer in the anticipation.
My uncle is 78 and in the last couple of weeks before the trip had become quite frail and unsteady on his feet, but not enough to be concerned, although I did sit in on a zoom chat between his three daughters, with the two who live here warning their sister what to expect when he arrived, the kind of support he was going to need. They were joking that he was just going to spend the entire month camped out on the sofa.
They flew out last Monday. Landed on Wednesday.
By Saturday he was in hospital. Covid - after he and my aunt had shielded so rigidly, so religiously, for so very long, because my aunt has Crohn's and is classed as highly vulnerable. She was not allowed to visit him in hospital for that reason, but tested positive nonetheless. It was the flight. That's where they caught it.
By this Monday just gone, my uncle was complaining of back pain, which triggered lots of alarm bells because last time he complained of back pain it turned out to be an aortic aneurysm and he just barely survived, largely because he was already in hospital at the time and could be whipped straight into surgery. But he was a lot younger then.
I just heard from my cousin. He's had a CT scan which revealed more aortic aneurysms in his stomach. They have decided against surgery as there is a less than 2% chance of survival. He is being kept comfortable with pain meds and all other treatments have been stopped. My aunt has been allowed to sit with him.
He's going to die. On the wrong side of the world.
They were so excited for this trip.
He and my aunt flew out to New Zealand last Monday. They were really excited. Their youngest daughter and her family live in Christchurch and they've not seen each other in person for four years. This trip has been long in the planning and even longer in the anticipation.
My uncle is 78 and in the last couple of weeks before the trip had become quite frail and unsteady on his feet, but not enough to be concerned, although I did sit in on a zoom chat between his three daughters, with the two who live here warning their sister what to expect when he arrived, the kind of support he was going to need. They were joking that he was just going to spend the entire month camped out on the sofa.
They flew out last Monday. Landed on Wednesday.
By Saturday he was in hospital. Covid - after he and my aunt had shielded so rigidly, so religiously, for so very long, because my aunt has Crohn's and is classed as highly vulnerable. She was not allowed to visit him in hospital for that reason, but tested positive nonetheless. It was the flight. That's where they caught it.
By this Monday just gone, my uncle was complaining of back pain, which triggered lots of alarm bells because last time he complained of back pain it turned out to be an aortic aneurysm and he just barely survived, largely because he was already in hospital at the time and could be whipped straight into surgery. But he was a lot younger then.
I just heard from my cousin. He's had a CT scan which revealed more aortic aneurysms in his stomach. They have decided against surgery as there is a less than 2% chance of survival. He is being kept comfortable with pain meds and all other treatments have been stopped. My aunt has been allowed to sit with him.
He's going to die. On the wrong side of the world.
They were so excited for this trip.
