I will start with the recent. My dad had oesophageal cancer. He was diagnosed in March 2012. He waited until after Mothers day to tell us, his words were ''what kind of mothers day would you have had if I told you before'' He had gone to the doctors because he had a sore throat and a persistent cough, he also was having a bit of trouble swallowing, but not as much as the end. The doctors were very swift and diagnosised him within 2-3 weeks. He underwent a 3 month course of chemotherapy. At the end of this he was told that it hadn't worked, a lymph node had grown and the cancer was now inoperable, he was told at this point he only had 4-6 months to live, he had a second opinon to confirm what the doctors had told him, now he had to face the inevitable. My dad kept this from us, he kept telling us everything was going to be fine, they were going to operate, it had just been pushed back. He had a stent fitted which caused him tremendous pain, he didn't burden us with it and carried on as though everything was fine. He had a course of 10 radiotherapy treatments. This was given as we now know to try and prolong his life. His eating deteriorated to the point where he couldn't eat anything, he was drink fortisip. Even at this point we thought he would get through it, as that's what he kept telling us. On 18th August, he went into hospital with severe hip pain, an out of hours doctor said the cancer may have spread. This wasn't the case as we found out, in fact my dad was dying in front of our eyes. He came out of hospital on 19th, still in horrendous pain and went back in o to a different hospital on 20th, he never came out. The 20th was a Monday, he was up and talking, during the next 11 days, he deteriorated until he eventually passed away. Even when he was in hospital, we thought it was all to do with the radiotherapy effects and it was normal. He contracted pneumonia which they gave him antibiotics for, he even got over that during the time he was in hospital. The thing was apart from the cancer, dad was a very fit, strong man. Doctors/Nurses were telling us he was very poorly. We wanted to make sure he had every chance of getting through this, so every day, since the nurses couldn't get him to eat, we went in morning, afternoon and evening to give him his fortsip and to make him drink and bless him, he did it, even though he knew the inevitable was happening. We were told on 29th August by an oncologist in no uncertain terms, dad was dying. I asked how long he had and they said days. On that Wednesday, my brother stayed with my dad morning, noon and night until he took his last breath. This was amazing as Danial had visited the hospital on numerous occasion but couldn't pluck up the courage to go in and actually see him. He spoke to dad and comforted him in his final few days. On the night of 30th, his breathing changed, my brother phoned us and said we should go in, dad only had hours to live. We went in and saw him, this shell of a man. He was so pale and skinny, his breathing was hard and rapid, he had his eyes open, but it was happening. After holding his hand and talking, my mum told dad to close his eyes and go to sleep, within 10 minutes he had passed away. My brave, strong dad, who we thought nothing could beat him, died through awful cancer. He kept it to himself as not to hurt or worry us. My dad, my hero xx