My father, Kenneth Smith was a very poorly man until he sadly said his 
final goodbyes to his much-loved family on Thursday 31^st January
2019.

For such a long time, my father was battling against the dreadful illnesses, namely COPD and Emphysema.  Over the years of suffering and progressively worsening, he had undergone tests in order 

My father was a true fighter.  

During his illnesses, he continued to fight, even when he was later diagnosed with diabetes and neuropathy.  The amount of medication he was taking was unbelievable and some of the medication had nasty side effects. 

Witnessing my father, my hero, a man who once had a physique of Bruce Lee transform into an individual who could barely walk from his living room to the hallway without gasping for breath and without being in pain was truly heart-breaking.  His inability to do everyday tasks made him feel worthless and useless.   He wasn't.   He was our everything.

With this came depression.  He would often find himself in a very dark and lonely place even though he had the love and support from his wife, Sue (My mother), his 3 sons (Jason, Shane and Nigel (me)), his grandchildren, Lee, Dale, Chloe, Rhys, Raven and Ruby and great-grandson, Jayce. 

My father was devoted to his family and even though he was getting worse daily, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his family. 

He would put himself out and drop everything when anyone else in his 
family was in need.

Approximately 2 years ago, along with everything else my father was up against, he contracted the infection Pseudomonas, which is deadly for those with already poor lungs and low immune system. 

Pseudomonas can kill within a matter of days in worst circumstances, but my father was not giving up easy.

When treated for Pseudomonas, the infection never goes away completely but instead, the antibiotics (if they work at all) only puts the infection at bay, but each time it flares up, it would leave nasty traces resulting in my father becoming more poorly.

Last year, my father was in and out of hospital countless of times where he was being cared for and looked after on Ward 44 Darlington Memorial Hospital (Respiratory Medicine).

Because of the type of man my father was, he made friends at the hospital and all the staff members grew to love him.  He was treated with great love and respect and the rapports built between him and the staff  was lovely.

My father knew that his time was fast approaching and would often speak openly about when he passes.  It was difficult to listen to, but he wanted there to be no misunderstandings or ambiguities when he has gone.   

Up until my father’s experiences on Ward 44, he was petrified of hospitals, but the staff on this ward made him feel loved, respected and cared for.

On Sunday 27^th January 2019, my mother had to have my father rushed to hospital because his Oxygen Saturation levels were dangerously low and no matter how hard they tried with the equipment at home, they could not get them to stabilise.  

The medical team at Darlington A&E were also unable to stabilise him unless he was permanently fitted with a face mask (Non-invasive Ventilation (NIV)) through which he was administered 15 litres of oxygen per minute, as opposed to his recommended 3 litres.

My father was admitted to Ward 44, where he continued to worsen.  The Pseudomonas infection and related bacteria continued to grow until there really was no coming back.  The medical staff did absolutely everything they could to make my father feel comfortable and pain free whilst continuing to display their respect, love and kindness.  

My father knew that his time was coming. 

Having had many years to prepare himself for the inevitable, he was always scared of passing away whilst gasping for breath.  The medical team on Ward 44 were brilliant and they kept him calm and comfortable throughout his ordeal.  He had no worries.   At 0900 hrs on Thursday, my father gave up the battle and drifted off calmly to sleep forever. 

My father has spoken about his funeral and he has always said that 
flowers purchased for a funeral would be a waste of money as they would only get put in the bin afterwards and he would rather that should anyone wish to be kind enough to want to purchase some flowers, then instead, he would prefer that they make a monetary donation to Ward 44.

Any donations received, will go directly to Ward 44 and the donations are there to help them with the purchase of medical equipment, products, services or education that would not be available to them other than through charitable giving

Therefore, I ask you to kindly make a donation (Big or small – everything counts) in memory of my father, a true warrior and everyone’s friend, Kenneth Ralph Smith.

RIP Dad. 

Love you always.