Chapter 12 - The End

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I had wondered what his eyes had been scanning. Every five minutes he would carefully track an object across the ceiling of his bedroom.

"I can't see any flies Maxie. Tell me next time you see it."

We both waited and he pointed out next time he saw his fly moving across the room.

"There is goes. Look. Can't you see it?"

"No. Are you sure it's there? I think you might be hallucinating. Look at it very carefully."

He concentrated.

"Oh yeah, it's not really there" and he smiled softly.

"Why is that happening then, Dad?"

I explained that the morphine could cause him to hallucinate. He knew about hallucinations from his past fevers. He found these harmless images amusing and would grin every now and then and slowly turn his head and tell me he was watching those funny flies again.

We had a couple of good days before he began to deteriorate again.

During Max's last days Sara and I spent nearly twenty four hours a day with him. It was very wearing. We were not only virtual prisoners in our own home but also became prisoners in the small cramped room which was Max's bedroom. We removed all the furniture and there were three mattresses on the floor during the night. One for him and two for us. During the day we removed our mattresses.

A week before Max died he asked Sara to leave the room so he could have a private conversation with me.

"Daddy, you remember you said that I would know when I was going to die? Yesterday I thought it would be five days and the day before it was five days but now I think it will be in five hours. I think that I'm going to die in my sleep tonight. Don't tell Mummy."

This statement tore me apart and I went downstairs and burst into tears. I told Sara despite Max's request. Sara and I stayed awake all night to be there for him.

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