Got to the nursing home to see Nat at 10 this morning, to find her in a really bad way. She hasn’t eaten for a few days; they managed to get 50ml of fluids into her today. That is all. And it may very well be the last fluid she ever has. She can’t swallow and her meds aren’t working purely because they can’t get them into her. Her body is twitching, she is having lots of little seizures. She is now on regular injections of morphine for pain management, and early this afternoon they started her on a hypnotic drug, to try and help her sleep, and her body get some rest from the twitching.

The phlegm is building up in her chest and she is finding it hard to dislodge. They were having to suck it out of her mouth every 10 minutes. This is an end-stage landmark. Along with last fluids, last dose of dexamethasone, etc.

To see Nat in that way today was horrificly distressing. Mum and Dad were there too; we would not leave her until she was asleep, Now, the doctor says they are keeping her in a twilight zone. God, I hope it is a nice twilight zone and not a horror-movie twilight zone. Now we just want peace for her. She will be leaving us all too soon. A matter of days, maybe a week, maybe two. I hope it is quick, for her.

It breaks my heart. It truly breaks my heart, to see my sister this way. I never thought you could feel so personal about a tumour. I hate it. I hate that tumour in her brain, THOSE tumours in her brain, with a total, black hate, hate it passionately. More than I ever hated my own tumour.Hate what it is doing to her, what it has reduced her to, for causing the fear that I sometimes see in her eyes and the way she reaches for our hands.

Only writing this as a kind of recording function, a journal entry, rememberance.