When Dad died in October 2008, his passing marked the end of two years fighting cancer, diagnosed once in 2006 and again in 2008.

I had just finished work one day when I received the phone call telling me about the multiple inoperable tumours in Dad's brain. I sat in my car and cried. I wanted to fast forward to the tears at his funeral - because I knew that was where we were heading - and skip the hard part in between. Ironically, Dad's first battle with cancer of the oesophagus led to a quality of life he hadn't enjoyed in years, even when he was well. It also gave us the means to make it through the second diagnosis and Dad's subsequent palliative care. Carol was working the night shift in September 2006 when she came across Dad's name on the patient list. She rightly guessed there couldn't be many men called Sid Guinness and popped in for a visit after work.

"Remember me?"

Carol and Dad met at a basketball tournament in 1970. Carol was manning the scoreboard, and Dad was playing for one of the teams. She pointed him out to another girl. "See that guy? I'm going to have him by the end of the night." She didn't, quite, but invited him to a party. Then they were together for the next two years, but the romance came to an abrupt end when Dad was posted to Singapore. By the time they met again, Carol and Dad were both divorced and single.

Second time around

Recovering after the removal of cancer from his oesophagus and stomach, Dad did remember her, and was thrilled to see her again. Before he was discharged from hospital, Dad gave Carol his phone number so she could get in touch if she wanted to. She did, and they decided to make a go of things again. Dad had been on his own for years when he and Carol got back together. A real show off, he loved to entertain, but hadn't been up to any of his old tricks for a long time. Being alone didn't agree with Dad. It left him prone to depression and the effects of the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder he experienced after serving in Vietnam.

Fresh start

Carol's nursing experience meant she understood, and managed his moods better than most. She introduced him to her friends and encouraged him to venture out. It wasn't long before we began to see the old Sid shining through. When we turned up for Christmas dinner at their home, we were met at the door by Dad dressed as an elf, complete with a hideous pair of green tights!

Devastating diagnosis

Carol took advantage of the leap year in 2008 to ask Dad to marry her. His terminal diagnosis cemented this plan, and they married in May. Dad enjoyed a reasonable quality of life for a few months before Carol found herself caring for him full-time.Carol says there's not a lot of help available for someone providing palliative care. She gave up her paid job, as it was going to cost more than her wages to hire someone to support Dad while she worked. "Waipuna Hospice were great and gave us everything they could," she says. "They supplied us with equipment and helped with showering. They were a phone call away the whole time." Support from friends, family and neighbours allowed Carol to keep up her regular walks and have time out in other ways. During this period one of my brothers, whom Dad hadn't seen much over the years, made a special effort to visit. It was good for them to get to know each other again. Carol's sister stayed full-time, then overnight during Dad's final week.

Caring skills

Dad had advised us to put him into formal care when he got to the point of needing help with everything. He had nursed his own mo her through her cancer experience, and didn't want his family to go through a similar trauma. Without Carol, that's what would have happened. The increasingly complex care he needed was too difficult for an untrained person to manage. Many practical tasks were made easier because of Carol's nursing training: medications, lifting and transferring, knowing what equipment was available, and how to use it. Of course, no amount of training can make it easy to watch someone you love slip away from you. "The actual loss of movement wasn't a problem," Carol says. "The worst thing was when Sid lost his speech. He couldn't share what he wanted to say, which was frustrating for both of us."

New awareness

Dad and Carol struggled with a lack of assistance from specialists once his condition was viewed as terminal. "There was no further treatment they could offer, so the doctors didn't want to know. Dad wanted to arrange his own funeral and got everything sorted while he was still well. He had the funeral director visit him at home to confirm his final arrangements. Choosing music and readings was very important to Dad, as was having a military presence to recognise his military career. Later, Carol was grateful that Dad had been so organised and proactive. He died in October 2008, and his personality certainly came through during the funeral. Carol says her experience with Dad has made her more understanding of families and what they're going through when someone is ill. "When a relative seems aggressive or angry, I now understand why. They're not just being an annoying relative, they're really upset." Her final thought on the matter is mine too: "I'm so glad that I was able to look after him and that he was able to die at home. That was the best thing."