Please Don't Cry

by Jane Plume

  On the Saturday, Shaun decided that he wanted to get some fireworks and sparklers in for the kids. Rich and his partner Nat were over from Holland and arranged to join us for the evening. Lewis and Ashton were looking forward to seeing them because they had known Rich all their lives and loved Nat too.

  That evening was freezing cold but that didn’t stop us enjoying it. I made sure the kids were wrapped up warm in hats, scarves and gloves, and I put on plenty of layers myself. We must have looked like we were going on an expedition to the North Pole, not just out into the garden. Shaun and Rich took control of the fireworks, setting them off to the cheers of the kids. Shaun was laughing and joking throughout, even prancing about in the garden when one of the fireworks fell over and the sparks shot across the lawn rather than up in the air.

  Ashton was laughing out loud at his dad. He grabbed Shaun’s hand and said, ‘Come and stand out of the way with me where it’s safe, Daddy!’

  We oohed and ahed as the fireworks lit up the night sky, with the odd scream as the bangers went soaring into the air.

  ‘Do you think Mummy can see the fireworks?’ Ashton asked, taking hold of my hand, craning his neck backwards as he peered upwards at the stars.

  ‘I’m sure she can, buddy,’ I replied, ruffling his hair.

  The kids loved making shapes in the air with the sparklers, or writing their names, and they thoroughly enjoyed the whole evening.

  With the family fireworks over and sparklers finished, Lewis headed out to a fireworks display for his friend’s birthday with a cheery, ‘See ya later, Dad!’ Meanwhile, I got the two little ones ready for bed. Kitted out in his pyjamas, Ashton crawled on to his dad’s lap for a big kiss and hug.

  ‘Love ya, son,’ Shaun said, giving him a squeeze.

  ‘Love you too, Daddy,’ Ashton replied brightly.

  I took Anni-Mae and Ashton upstairs and tucked them in, their little cheeks glowing from the cold. They were asleep in minutes. I came back downstairs and put the kettle on, making us all a hot drink and within a few minutes Shaun was also asleep. I didn’t think anything of it, and neither did Rich and Nat. We were all used to Shaun being sleepy for so many months now. The three of us sat chatting, laughing at Shaun’s not-so-gentle snoring coming from the sofa.

  He woke as they were leaving, we said our goodbyes and arranged to see them the following day. I helped Shaun with the injection that he was still using regularly for the pain and then got into bed myself.

  I woke up a few hours later, aware that Shaun had got up to use the bathroom and I instinctively checked on him as I always did, enquiring if he was okay. All he said was, ‘That’s really taken it out of me.’

  ‘Just get back into bed,’ I told him. ‘You need your sleep.’

  Less than an hour later I was woken by Shaun for a second time, this time calling out to me. As soon as I walked into his bedroom, I knew something was wrong. He grabbed out for my hand.

  ‘I can’t breathe,’ he almost spat out.

  He was semi-upright and was gasping for breath. I could hear the rattles coming from his chest.

  ‘I’m ringing for an ambulance,’ I told him. He was too ill to argue.

  I called 999 and explained the situation, then phoned Shaun’s dad, Mick. I told him what was happening and he arrived just before the paramedics so he waited outside on the pavement to direct him up to Shaun’s bedroom. By now Shaun was red hot and his breathing had become more difficult. The paramedic listened to Shaun’s chest with a stethoscope – not that he needed one, as the bubbling sound that came from his chest was incredibly loud.

  ‘His lungs are full of fluid,’ he confirmed. He set up a nebuliser and asked me to hold the mask over Shaun’s face while he called for an emergency ambulance. Several times, Shaun tried to push the mask away.

  ‘Just let me keep it there,’ I begged. ‘It’s to help you.’

  It felt like an age before the ambulance arrived, although I have since been told it was only about twelve minutes, but by this time, Shaun couldn’t even stand. They tried hard to get him on to his feet but to no avail. Shaun was very confused and frightened, but they each took an arm and held him upright so that I could pull some jogging bottoms on him, then they strapped him into a chair and took him down the stairs and into the back of the ambulance. Mick said I should go with him to the hospital, and he would stay and mind the kids. As the ambulance pulled away from the house, the two crew members looked at each other and said, ‘Blues and twos,’ meaning they would have the blue lights flashing and use the sirens if they came across any traffic, and that confirmed my worst nightmare: things were bad. En route to the hospital a tube was inserted into Shaun’s hand and a drip attached to it. An oxygen mask was placed across his face, and he finally closed his eyes and relaxed back into the pillow. Then they asked me to confirm Shaun’s details, his medical history, and wrote down the long list of his medications that I recited to them.

  After being rushed into Accident and Emergency, Shaun was taken to a booth and the doctor came immediately. As he was too poorly to move, they X-rayed him where he lay and began giving him antibiotics for an infection.

  As the doctor explained the treatment, all I heard was the word I had been dreading: ‘pneumonia’. I’m not usually a pessimist but the first thing I did was think of my sister, who had died just over six weeks earlier from that very thing. My heart was in my mouth as he continued. I could see his lips moving but I was only hearing certain words – ‘serious’, ‘life-threatening’, ‘very poorly’.

  Shaun’s pneumonia had attacked his right lung, his good lung – or at least the better of the two – and had produced a lot of fluid. His temperature was dangerously high which, in turn, had caused his confusion.

  As they fussed around him, I quickly nipped outside to phone Shaun’s dad and brother with an update, and then I phoned my own brothers. Then I just sat at the side of the bed, waiting for some kind of response. I was terrified. Part of me didn’t want to be there at that moment, but I also knew that there was no way I was going to leave.

  As dawn broke, Shaun appeared to come round a little bit, but he was still disorientated. ‘I need to spit,’ he muttered. ‘My mouth tastes horrible.’

  I grabbed a handful of tissues and placed them in front of his mouth, I wiped away when he had finished and went to place the tissues into the bin. What I saw horrified me – the tissues were full of bright red blood. Panicking, I ran out through the curtains and grabbed the doctor looking after Shaun.

  ‘He said he wanted to spit,’ I explained. ‘But look!’

  I continued holding out the tissues so he could see the crimson contents. He didn’t look at all alarmed, just nodded and placed a hand on my shoulder reassuringly as though to say ‘I’m not surprised’. I returned to the cubicle where Shaun lay on the trolley.

  ‘What’s wrong with me?’ he asked, barely able to manage more than a whisper.

  ‘You have pneumonia,’ I replied, again reminding myself that Shaun wouldn’t thank me for not telling him the truth. ‘They have started antibiotics to fight the infection,’ I explained, hoping that I sounded more positive than I felt.

  A short while later we were moved to a ward. I called Rich and Nat and they agreed to go and stay at Shaun’s house with the children to give Shaun’s dad a break.

  ‘Don’t worry about anything,’ Rich reassured me. ‘We will have them as long as necessary.’

  Shaun was very sleepy but would wake for ten minutes or so now and again, usually to complain: the nurses were too noisy, the tea was horrible, etc. I took this as a positive sign, he was being his usual self. They continued with a regime of antibiotics, paracetamol to keep his temperature down and painkillers. I kept family and friends updated as much as possible but my phone was still constantly vibrating in my pocket.

  Shortly after lunch, Shaun’s friend Phil arrived to visit. Shaun was the best I’d seen him all day, even managing a bit of the usual banter he had with Phil.

  �
�Take her home will you,’ he said, cocking his head towards me. ‘She’s doing my head in.’

  He winked as he said it, of course, to make sure I wasn’t offended. Even so, with my car at home, having come in the ambulance, I decided to travel back with Phil to freshen up, see the kids, and get Shaun some clean clothes and toiletries. We had left in such a rush in the early hours of that morning that I hadn’t thought to pack a bag.

  I promised Shaun that I would be no more than a couple of hours, and started to gather my belongings and put my coat on. Phil stood from his chair and bent over the bed to give Shaun a hug and I remember thinking, ‘Ah, bless.’ As Phil stood, Shaun reached out for his hand and said three words, ‘Love ya, buddy.’ Phil placed his free hand over Shaun’s hand and said, ‘Love ya too, mate.’

  I had to turn away. It sounded like a last goodbye. I didn’t want to think like that but I couldn’t help it, the emotion it stirred up inside me was crushing.

  At the house, Rich and Nat were desperate for an update. I explained that it was pneumonia and that it was really just a waiting game. Then I had to tell Lewis what was going on.

  He was up in his room. I knocked on his door then tentatively opened it, not sure even then of what I was going to say.

  ‘How is he?’ he asked, before I was even fully in the room.

  Hard as it was I knew I had to be honest.

  ‘He is very ill, mate,’ I said.

  Lewis dropped his head into his hands. I sat down next to him to try to explain what they had said at the hospital, but it was all a bit too much for Lewis to take in, despite me trying to explain it as clearly and simply as I could.

  I put my arms around him and he sobbed softly for a few minutes. I promised him that when I got home, no matter what time it was, I would wake him up and keep him updated.

  Lewis didn’t want to go to the hospital to see his dad, as he was frightened of seeing him so ill. I couldn’t help but agree with him. I found it frightening enough myself and it looked like things were only going to get worse.

  True to my word, just a couple of hours later I was pulling into the car park and getting Shaun’s bag out of my boot. As I walked on to the ward, the sister came to greet me, ‘We have put Shaun in a side room,’ she explained. ‘That way you can stay as long as you want.’ I didn’t really think anything of it apart from, ‘At least he will have a TV now.’ I walked through the door of the room and I instantly felt differently. The air was heavy and the mood was sombre.

  ‘Hey, I’m back to irritate you again,’ I said, trying to sound light-hearted. Shaun just gave me a funny look. I sat in the chair next to him. ‘What is it,’ I questioned, already dreading the answer.

  He replied simply, ‘They have put me in here to die.’

  I took his hand and tried to reassure him, but all I could say was, ‘No, it’s so someone can stay with you,’ but I wasn’t convincing myself, so I’m sure it wasn’t convincing to Shaun either.

  For the next couple of hours we were both pretty much silent, and Shaun drifted in and out of sleep. At one point I got myself into a state as I realised the date, 4 November, was the anniversary of my dad passing away. ‘Please God,’ I silently prayed. ‘Don’t take someone else away from me.’

  In the early evening Shaun again appeared to come round a bit. He was more chatty, asking after the boys, my children, was I okay? Had I let everyone know he was in hospital? He even asked for the TV to be put on. He never mentioned his illness again and nor did I. We didn’t need to because it was at the forefront of my mind at all times, as I’m sure it was his. The only kind of reference to it was when he quietly said, ‘Sorry.’ I knew he meant for what he had said when I had first walked into the side room, but I just playfully nudged him and told him to shut up.

  By 10 p.m. Shaun was sleeping soundly. I knew that the children would be fine and be getting spoiled by Rich and Nat, so I decided to stay at the hospital. I wouldn’t have slept if I had gone home anyway, so I settled myself into the little camp bed the staff had brought in for me. I didn’t expect to sleep well but I was exhausted and fell into a restless sleep not long after Shaun. I woke a few times through the night, but at 5 a.m. I was startled by sudden movements from Shaun. I scrambled out of the covers.

  ‘It’s okay Shaun, I’m here,’ I said. ‘What’s wrong?’

  I didn’t get a reply so I went towards the bed. Shaun was thrashing about and didn’t seem to hear anything I was saying. He was wet through with sweat and his breath was coming in rapid, sharp gasps. Breathless with panic, I rang the call bell for help and the nurse was with me almost immediately, but she couldn’t seem to calm him down either. There was a doctor present on the ward, so he assessed Shaun and a decision was made to give him some morphine in case he was in pain, hoping it would also have the possible side effect of calming him. He had the injection and initially it appeared to have worked, but the lull was short-lived and Shaun was soon thrashing about again. It was heartbreaking to see and watching it was proving a bit too much for me to bear. With nobody to turn to, I crumpled into the arms of a nurse, unable to control my emotion.

  Once they had got Shaun settled again she asked if there was anyone I would like to call. I looked her straight in the eyes and asked if she was telling me that I should call his family. She put her hands protectively on my shoulders and said that I should call his nearest and dearest. Her words knocked the wind out of me. They didn’t expect Shaun to get through this.

  After I had called Shaun’s brother David, his parents, my brothers and Phil, the doctor took me in a private room and explained that the antibiotics did not appear to be treating the infection as quickly as they had hoped, his lungs were still full of fluid and although he was having these ‘episodes of thrashing around’, for the most part he was unresponsive. He suggested that they sedate Shaun and I was horrified. I couldn’t count the times he had said to me, ‘Don’t let them make me into a zombie.’ I was so torn. I wanted to respect Shaun’s wishes to the last, yet I couldn’t bear to see him in the state he was. Occasionally he would open his eyes but they looked full of fear and I’m not sure he knew we were there. We didn’t know if he was in pain, but one thing I knew for sure was that he was frightened.

  The doctor also went on to say that if Shaun’s heart stopped they would not attempt to resuscitate him. My head was spinning. How, in just thirty-six hours, had he gone from enjoying fireworks with family and friends to being, to put it bluntly, on his deathbed?

  Within a couple of hours my brother Mick, David and Lisa, and Phil were at Shaun’s bedside with me. I had described how he was on the phone, but I could see in the faces of each and every one of them the pain when they saw him for themselves. I couldn’t leave the room without Shaun appearing to panic and start thrashing about, trying to pull his drip lines out and the oxygen mask off his face. If I went to the bathroom, I could hear those with him saying, ‘It’s okay, she will be back in a minute,’ trying to reassure him. I would spend ages talking to him, holding his hand, stroking his forehead. I couldn’t bear for him to think he was alone.

  One time, as I reached his bedside after briefly leaving the room, he grabbed my jumper and pulled me to him, enveloping me in a big bear hug, I couldn’t help sobbing as I placed my arms around him and held him. All of a sudden, though, he lashed out, catching me with a right hook. I know it wasn’t intentional but it still knocked me backwards with such force that I stumbled into the open bathroom door behind me. Composing myself, I stepped forward to his side again rubbing my cheek.

  ‘I’ll let you have that one, Hibberd,’ I said, just in case he could hear me. I didn’t want him to feel bad.

  During one of his worst episodes it took me, David, Lisa, Phil, three or four nurses, two doctors plus a couple of students to restrain him in order to stop him hurting himself. He gripped my brother’s hand so hard that he was bleeding.

  Occasionally, Shaun’s eyes would open intermittently and he would seem to look at one person then ano
ther, then another, the fear in his eyes blatantly obvious for all to see. The doctor turned to me and asked if I thought he was in pain and, angry with the situation, I said, ‘Maybe he doesn’t like being the freak show!’

  That may have been a bit unfair but at least the students who were standing round his bed not doing anything useful, discreetly left the room. Eventually Shaun calmed down again and the doctor again asked us about sedating him. I looked over at David for guidance. ‘I promised him,’ I sobbed. ‘But I can’t do this any more, I can’t bear to see him like this.’

  David and I agreed together to let the medical staff sedate him. I felt so guilty, but what if he was aware of what was going on? What if that was what triggered the fear in his eyes? Nobody deserved that.

  Rich and Nat came to visit Shaun before he was sedated and were shocked by what they saw. I had taken the decision, after discussing it with the family, not to bring Lewis and Ashton to see their dad. I was struggling to cope with what I was seeing and I couldn’t put them through that. I knew it would be a memory that would stay with them forever, and it wouldn’t have been a good one.

  Eventually people had to leave: Nat and Rich to get back to the children, David and Lisa to sort their own young family out. My brother Mick stayed on. His son, Stephen, works in theatres in the hospital so he said he was waiting to give him a lift home but in truth, I think he was reluctant to leave me. When my nephew finished work he came up to the ward to see Shaun, then they did have to go. I have never felt so alone. I sat constantly talking to Shaun. I didn’t know if he could hear me but I needed to be sure that if he could, he would know that I was still with him.

  At eight o’clock that evening Mick re-appeared at the door of the room, knocking gently.

  ‘I’m not leaving you on your own,’ he said. ‘I want to stay.’

  I nodded sadly, it meant so much to me and I know it would have done to Shaun too. He was closely followed by David and Lisa.

  ‘David is staying with you tonight,’ said Lisa, embracing me. I nodded in agreement, the ache in my chest stopping me from speaking. I checked that David was happy for my brother to stay too, which of course he was, and the staff arranged another temporary bed to be put in the relatives’ room so that David and Mick could try to take it in turns to get some sleep. I still had the camp bed next to Shaun’s.