Before reading: I spoke to my Dad about whether I could write about this experience and he was fine with it and got the chance to read it before posting here.
The reason I wanted to write about this was to share an honest experience of what it was like having a family member in ICU with others and for my Dad's own insight too. Now this will probably be quite long so I'll split this over a few seperate posts.
For those that don't know, in November 2018 my Dad fell seriously ill. It all started off with what I thought was going to be a normal day out. It was a Saturday and we were finally going to watch the Bohemian Rhapsody movie with my Mum and Queens #1 fan, my Dad. I hadn't seen my parents for around 2 weeks, but I knew my Dad had been off work with a chest infection. Of course, when I heard this I moaned at him for the 10,000th time to stop smoking once and for all.
My Mum and Dad parked up in the cinema carpark and I could immediately see my Dad was not well. He looked jaundice, had lost weight and looked in a lot of pain. His breathing was laboured and he could only walk a few steps without running out of breath. After me asking him multiple times if we should call off seeing the film, my Dad said that he was ok and wanted to still see it... Literally nothing would come between him and his love for Queen it seemed. After what seemed a lifetime, the film was over and my Dad looked like he was still in a considerable amount of pain. It was after the film when we were sat having food that he decided to tell us all that he thought his lung may have collapsed that morning!
We made the decision to take him home and called an ambulance from there. We followed him to A&E where he was treated as a priority and taken to a cubicle where he was given an oxygen mask. For anyone who knows my Dad he likes to joke around and so every now and then he would do things that would make me jump up with panic and start laughing through his breathlessness. After a few hours the Doctor advised that he would be moved to a general ward for over night monitoring. We said goodbye and I felt reassured that he was in the right place and that he'd probably be given stronger antibiotics and be discharged the next day.
Around 5am the following morning, I got a call from my Mum to tell me my dad had been moved to Critical Care (aka ICU) and to get to the hospital as soon as possible. My heart sank and I instantly broke down. I had literally spoken to my Dad less than 12 hours before and what was I going to do when I got there? Was I going to say goodbye? Luckily, my boyfriend Paul was on hand to drive me to the hospital (we may have broken a few speed limits). All I knew about ICU was what I had seen on the TV. I was terrified of what I was going to be walking into and whether I'd get there in time.
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