In May 2013, my 83 year old dad was perfectly well, except that he suddenly turned yellow.
He had jaundice, and the cause of his blocked bile duct was pancreatic cancer.
Given six months to live, or 12 with chemo, Dad chose weekly chemo straightaway, and in September a CT scan revealed the tumour was unchanged which was considered to be good news.
On Sunday 29th September 2013, still on weekly chemo, he set out from Nelstrop Road, Stockport on the Manchester Cycleway on his mountain bike
He cycled to Debdale Park for the first time since the diagnosis.
On the return leg he didn’t feel so good, so he walked the bike home. On Tuesday he couldn’t get warm, and on Wednesday he was taken to Stepping Hill hospital with a high temperature.
On Friday night 4th October 2013 he died with all his family around him. His final words to me were “Don’t stay. I’ll pull through. Go and have a pint.”
He’d never been an old man, and he’d never had to be helped anywhere. He was determined to cycle again, and I’m very lucky to have had him as a dad. I’m missing him terribly.