Due to my inability to be bothered to lift a finger at the weekend, I had to postpone the Monday visit, to Tuesday. In fact I really wanted to postpone entirely but then the guilt seeped in, so….

Walking in was the usual unpleasant affair. It never gets easier seeing your Dad slumped in an uncomfortable sitting position, because he can no longer lift his head. That’s another thing they don’t tell you when you first get the diagnosis, your body will also irrevocably change, not just your mind. It has left him with a hunched stoop which prevents him from now truly seeing much but the stained floor.

Sitting next to him I gazed mindlessly at my phone. I do most of my emails sitting there, instead of really living in the moment with him. Frankly I don’t want to be in that moment so I use anything to distract myself from where I am. He appeared to be suffering from a cold or hay fever. Snot dripped from his nose in a constant stream, and he refused any help or assistance in wiping it. This was to the point that my stomach turned and I genuinely couldn’t face looking at him.

This continued for the next half an hour, dripping, attempting to wipe, mild anger from him and rinse and repeat. After forty minutes we could face no more and said our goodbyes.

As soon as we left I felt terrible. I have cleaned more snot and shit from two kids than I care to quantify, and yet, I could not face to look at my Dad as this was happening. What sort of daughter, nay human, am I that I could not bear to stay with him while something so innocuous was occurring?

On the drive home, I decided for once, to be kind to myself. I will make amends and go Saturday, bring more cakes, and this time, a supersize pack of tissues.