Not a day I want to remember, but unfortunately I won't ever forget it.

We got a call from the doctor in charge of the chest unit at the hospital. I spoke to him, as Mum and Dad don't hear very well on the phone. He wanted us to bring Dad in to have the fluid drainage procedure a day early, so we dropped everything and went straight to hospital without having any lunch, though Dad did have some toast.

Before starting the procedure, the doctor spoke to the three of us about the test results from the CT scan done last Friday. The lining of Dad's left lung has thickened, and it is almost certainly an asbestos-related disease. There are several diseases which can be caused by asbestos, and there is no cure for any of them. Analysis of the fluid which was drained will yield more information, and we are to see the doctor again on Thursday (unfortunately my birthday) for a more precise diagnosis, perhaps a prognosis, and a discussion on treatment and pain management to help Dad maintain as good a quality of life as possible.

They gave Mum and me the option of staying in the room with Dad for the drainage procedure, but I didn't want Mum to see it going on so suggested she and I went for a cup of tea. We were both terribly upset and tears were shed. The staff in the unit were wonderful, and the doctor himself came over to us and was very kind and reassuring that there was a lot that could be done to manage the disease. Mum and I agreed then, no tears or long faces in front of Dad.

After over half an hour, we were able to rejoin Dad in the treatment room. They had removed a litre and a half of fluid from the membrane around the lung. A massive amount, and there is still more left to be drained. They never remove it all in one go, the doctor said. It had been a lot for a 90-year-old to go through, and it took quite a while for him to recover enough to be taken home. At the moment, we are just taking each day as it comes.