Sad news this week: the President of our Rotary Club has passed away and Marilyn and I are on our way to Deloraine this morning to brief the Vice-Chairman and make sure everything is in place for a smooth hand-over. Peter was a retired doctor but had a serious health problem which left him seriously handicapped and in constant pain. He lived in a motorised wheelchair and had frequent trips to the hospital for treatment.
A couple of weeks ago, he told his wife he had had enough and it was time to go. He stopped eating and drinking and, as we might have said years ago, 'pointed the bone at himself'. His medical advisors said it would only be 3-6 days before nature took its course. It was a lot longer. As the situation progressed, palliative care specialists from the local hospital came to advise and he was moved in to a palliative care room there.
His wife had insisted, wisely, that there were to be no visitors but Marilyn and I called in to the hospital on Friday to check on her, and we were invited round to see him. He heard Marilyn's voice and said, 'Who's that?'
'It's Marilyn,' Lois answered.
'What's she doing here on her own?'
'She's not alone; John's here too. ''Why are they here?'
'They've come to say Goodbye.'
'Oh!'
At this point he had been a couple of weeks without proper sustenance; he had lost a great deal of weight. He died on Saturday
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