My Mother passed away. I was holding her hand when she took her last breath. Some might say it was peaceful. For me, it wasn't like you see on TV.
Nine days before that, she had a stroke. Massive. My cousin Gary called me to tell me, saying, "You better get here as soon as you can - she may not last through the day." I packed a few things while Joan made airline reservations; less than a half hour later, we were on the way to the airport.
When I got to the hospital, Mom was sitting up in bed and said, "Jim - you're here!" I was stunned. It was apparent that she had no movement on left side, but her speech, while weak, wasn't slurred. She seemed cognizant of the situation. She said to me, "This is the shits." A few minutes later she had no idea what was going on.
I spoke with the doctor, who showed me a cat scan of her brain... about half of it was, for lack of a better word: dead. "How could she sit up and recognize me earlier?"
"She is tough, but expect moments of lucidity and a lot of confusion."
"Is there any hope of recovery?" I asked.
"No. She will need specialized nursing care..." much of what he said after that was a blur. Rather than go into more detail, the next week was a roller coaster. I fought hard to get her into a rehab program at that hospital, and a week later, we started her first rehab session. About 15 minutes into that session, she had a seizure. They gave her a shot to stop the convulsions. Another cat scan, another discussion: "She will not come back from this episode. I'll have my nurse visit with you about Hospice..."
Two days later, she was gone.
She was 90; this was a few weeks after her 90th birthday party.
2 comments:
Late, but condolences anyway. You know why I was in Arizona recently, so we get it. I was in Alaska when my mother passed after two months of hospice at home care. Three types of cancer in lungs and brain. I had last seen her about four months prior, when attending my father's funeral. If only we could all go peacefully and suddenly...
Thanks, Earl. My Mother lived a long life - outlived all her siblings. She was living independently in her own apartment when she had the stroke; had driven earlier that day. She understood what the situation was. Fortunately, she and I had "that talk" years earlier, so I knew what her wishes were... still, tough decisions to be made, but I made them knowing what she wanted.
I want to go out like my Grandfather did: in his sleep... not screaming like the other people in the car he was driving. Yes, it is an old joke, but in this case, it was the facts. Leaving on a lite note.
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