Monday Musings: The Dead Dads Club
Grief & Trauma Ten Months On
It was a year ago on Fathers Day that my Dad first mentioned the pain in his abdomen to me and my brother. He’d been dealing with it for a few weeks by then and was fairly convinced it was sciatica because most of the pain was towards his back.
By this point, Mum and Dad had replaced the mattress on their bed and Dad had stopped sitting in his usual armchair, convinced that one of them must be the cause of his discomfort. But a student of his (a former paramedic) had suggested it might actually be a kidney issue.
“I’ve been saying for years you need to drink more water,” I told him. “But... you also need to go to the doctor.”
My brother echoed my sentiments, telling him it could be anything. Between Mum and the two of us, we managed to convince him to go and get himself checked out, “even just for peace of mind.”
Several weeks later, on 29th July, my brother came over to Manchester to attend a party my partner and I were throwing on our roof terrace. In the middle of festivities, he took …