My brother Patrick died early yesterday morning. It wasn't a particular surprise; he'd been in hospital for most of the time since our sister found him collapsed in his room at the end of July. The folk at the hospital in Carlisle where he was taken managed to keep him alive then, despite not expecting him to live then. I saw him a few times as he moved from the ITU to an ordinary ward, but not since then. He was released to my other sister's care shortly after I'd left the area, but we all thought that it was too soon.
That proved to be the case, so he was back in Carlisle within a week in an ordinary ward. About three weeks ago, he was transfered to a lockdown ward, where he, unsurprisingly, caught covid. He wasn't allowed visitors, so the last three weeks of his life he saw no-one that he knew. He died alone early on Sunday morning. Carlisle hospital still haven't given us any information as to what he died of, but it's probably the massive organ failure that they were expecting him to die of a couple of months ago.
That's not the problem, it's the fact that he was alone for so long is what's eating us all up.
That proved to be the case, so he was back in Carlisle within a week in an ordinary ward. About three weeks ago, he was transfered to a lockdown ward, where he, unsurprisingly, caught covid. He wasn't allowed visitors, so the last three weeks of his life he saw no-one that he knew. He died alone early on Sunday morning. Carlisle hospital still haven't given us any information as to what he died of, but it's probably the massive organ failure that they were expecting him to die of a couple of months ago.
That's not the problem, it's the fact that he was alone for so long is what's eating us all up.
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