I went to visit a famous man in his home. He was well-known locally and internationally. He had achieved great things throughout his life. The last few years were difficult for him due to several illnesses. One bad thing added to another, added to another. A painful condition had developed at the site of a previous radiation treatment. It caused nerve irritation resulting in electricity-like surges of pain even at rest. If you’ve ever knocked your funny bone you’d understand the feeling of nerve pain, but this was much worse. The pain relief he was on didn’t work, and he didn’t want to try anything else. He hadn’t slept for most of the week. His wife hadn’t slept either as she was trying her best to look after him. The hospice nurse had talked to them about admission, but he was reluctant.

I joined the nurse on the home visit, and we were welcomed in by his wife. We went inside and there was a huge pet cat inside, the size of a medium-sized dog. I noted the chairlift as we went upstairs to his bedroom. He had been stuck in bed for weeks as his legs had become weak due to nerve issues. He had developed several skin pressure ulcers. He looked exhausted, he winced in pain. He was constipated and full of frustration. He looked broken and it didn’t take too much to convince him that he needed to be admitted. He needed a general sort-out, especially of his pain. I promised him we would keep him in the inpatient unit for as short a time as possible, and that we would send him home if things improved.

We worked on his pain aggressively and brought it under control fast. His constipation proved to be more stubborn. His skin pressure ulcers responded well to our nursing team’s attention. He hadn’t spent much time apart from his wife and he worried about her when she wasn’t around. He thought she did too much for him and he wanted her to take a break. At the same time, he thought he would miss her too much. They had been together through many hardships and many successes, the highs and lows of a busy intertwined life. Everything had become a struggle in recent weeks because of the loss of mobility. How long could they continue together at home? Would they have to live separately?