||[Oct. 4th, 2011|06:54 pm]
so my mom passed away a week ago tomorrow.|
we were supposed to have a meeting after i left work to see how things were going and so i could talk to the doctor, but hospice called me earlier in the day and old me she wasn't doing well. the doctor had recommended taking her off of all of her medications except for her pain meds. i cancelled the meeting because i had a feeling the end was close. i went and visited her after work and she didn't sound good. her breathing was shallow and there was gurgling in the back of her throat. i alerted one of the nurses who called hospice and her doctor about giving her some medicine to dry up her chest. i left for a little bit because i was driving myself crazy.
i went to melissa's and i cried for a while. i told her i didn't want to see and remember my mom like this. i feel asleep as she rubbed my head and feet. when i woke up, we made plans to go out to eat after visiting my mom. she visited with a friend of my mom's while i checked to see if she was doing better. when i went in, she was on her side and still breathing the same with non gurgling, but she had spit up on herself. i wiped some off of her and said "i'll be right back. i love you." i walked out and told the nurse what i saw and found melissa while they cleaned her up. melissa left to talk to the nurse and, when she came back, told me the nurse was looking for me. that's when i was told.
melissa cried immediately. i felt a rush of numbness over my body. they finished cleaning her up and changing her sheets and then we went in to see her. the thing is for the last few months, it's been hard to tell how she's felt. she's been basically unresponsive verbally and what she had, metabolic encephalopathy, causes involuntary movements. sometimes when she could talk, i'd ask if she was in pain and she would say no. but i don't know what kind of hell she was going through. melissa thinks that when she came to, she realized she could only move her head and she was terrified by that. melissa says that she told my mom that she and jonas would take care of me. my mom sighed and smiled and looked out the window. when melissa asked if she saw something good out there, she nodded.
i was telling melissa... the thing about my mom is that there are so many facets to be sad about. she was very unhappy because her mind was so big and her body, so limited. she had so many things she wanted to do and couldn't. she was in a nursing home when she didn't want to be and she was forced to be around a bunch of other residents, many of whom weren't able to communicate. she was beginning to notice numbness creeping up her body and that, eventually, the ms would spread and leave her less able to do things herself which saddened her very, very much. there is another gentlemen with ms in coral trace who can only blink and barely talk.
but the thing that makes me saddest is that, though we knew she was ill, we weren't prepared for this to happen when it did. and i would give ANYTHING to have had one full day with her to tell me anything she wanted me to know. to call and get closure if she needed it. to pet a dog again. to try and talk me into having kids again. to tell me she loved me again. to joke with me. anything. it's not fair how sudden it was. one day, she has gastritis and she'll be okay and the next, she's unable to speak. it's not fucking fair and when i think about how unfair it is, it hurts me so badly. and it happens to so many people. i guess that's the only place where fairness shows up.
i will miss my mom terribly. i wrote somewhere that a part of me died with her. and now i will slowly fill that hole with memories and good times and the sound of her laugh echoing in my head. when we went in to see her, she was finally peaceful. no more tics. no more movement and possible suffering. just her laying there. and as melissa said, the energy in her body could finally go and be the wind theat brids flew on and the vibration that carried notes through the air. i like that.
and i'm so glad she's out there.