Then he unwillingly got on the MND progression train.......
A few miles in he found he couldn't manage the bacon or the toast, he was still working a little so he stuck to the porridge, bread, butter and marmalade and orange, sometimes he had scrambled eggs at the weekend.
The journey continued. He found the porridge was making him choke so he tried Weetabix. He changed the orange to a banana. He didn't bother with the bread, butter and marmalade because it was taking so long for him to eat.
At the next stop he had a gastric PEG fitted, just in case. He also had to swap the Weetabix for Ready Brek as the Weetabix was making him choke. He wasn't getting out on the farm till the afternoon as it took him most of the morning to eat his breakfast.
The emergency cord had to be pulled as this train progressed, in order to pick up some special milk shakes and night feeds to supplement his meals, thank goodness for the PEG. Eating generally was causing some real choking problems. They also loaded up some walking aids as that was getting more difficult too.
The train meandered along for a while, phew, he wanted to just make the most of the journey, then bam........the train came to a halt, something was blocking the track. The farmer had given up working on the farm a few stops back, his legs wouldn't work very well either, or his hands, or his speech, but now...now he couldn't eat anything as everything made him choke. The train had to wait for the blockage to be cleared, for the daily PEG feed to arrive...the fuel to keep the farmer alive. 'OK, we'll let him have that.' said the driver of the MND progression train.
Now the train is still progressing, the farmer doesn't know when the journey will end, but knows there will be more unwanted stops along the way before the inevitable derailment. He waits for his wife to help him dress in the morning and then connect him to his feed, his life support. Those fried breakfasts and big meals he used to love have become the stuff of fantasy and dreams. The only food passing his lips might be a custard pot or a couple of Lindor chocolates.
For now there is no way for the farmer to get off that train. Once on ...that's it....
He hates being on this train, he wants to get off, to get back in those fields with the cattle he can see whizzing past the window, but for everyone he has a smile, this brave man, who once got handed the wrong ticket..... A ticket to hell...on the MND progression train.
