Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Just a sad update

Tiny boat on the Mersey

A tiny wind and tide tossed sailing boat on the River Mersey

We spotted this little boat on Saturday on our way over to Arrowe Park Hospital. This makes me think a bit of our situation - there's that tiny boat out there on a huge river, battling on through the waves. Wind against Tide makes for rough water.

Wednesday last week after observing Mum on the Clinical Decision Unit over the previous 2 days she was moved to a ward and has been put onto the Liverpool Care Path for the Dying (LCP). They found that she had both lung and urinary tract infections, so had her on a ?saline drip and also intravenous antibiotics. They kept her on these (which they started while were there on the Monday Mum was admitted) for another 36 hours to see if she showed any signs of improving.

The first we knew that Mum was on the LCP was on Wednesday when John and Helen visited, but I didn't go. John went to the hospital this Monday, as nobody had really told us much about how things had proceded. I think we were too shocked by how suddenly and fast it all happened to ask before.

We've visited most days since Mum went onto the LCP (though I had a day off Monday as so exhausted by all the travelling), and we sit and chat about what's happening with the family news, and reminisce about past times.

One day we even had a bit of a sing song with the lady in the next bed!

To be honest I doubt that Mum can hear us any more as she's on so much medication (given via a pump) and looks as if she's sleeping. Every day when we phone we get the same message, which can be summed up as: "She had a comfortable night, no change."

John was back in work yesterday for the first day since (I think) last Wednesday - we just can't plan anything, it all feels so awful. We're just waiting for Mum to die, makes me feel rather like a circling vulture.

We went over yesterday evening, but only stayed about 20 minutes. I was able to stroke Mum's forehead and tell her again that I love her. While I have actively disliked Mum on numerous occasions, she is still my Mummy who was my world when I was a little girl. The love was still there.

John phoned Norah, one of Mum's oldest friends the other day to tell her what was going on. Her response was that she thought it was good that Mum was finally getting some respite, that her recent life wasn't at all what she wanted.

I think both John and myself felt better for hearing that. Norah has been a tower of strength and help when things were awful around the time John began to use Dad's Enduring Power of Attorney and Mum was rampaging up and down to the banks and accusing them (and us) of all sorts.

It may sound silly, but I can't bring myself to begin thinking of the F word yet. We both still have a feeling that Mum will suddenly sit up in bed and demand a cup of tea and some pink ice cream.

Nothing seems very real at the mo, and I've had a couple of really bad episodes of depersonalisation that have freaked me out somewhat. Finding it very difficult to eat anything, and frequently not sleeping very well either.

But slept 12 hours straight last night, so am feeling somewhat better today. And the sun's shining too, so that always helps.

Tower and Echo Building


Natalya said...

Dear Maggie, my heart goes out to you today. All of what you are saying I have felt. I can't offer anything to make things ok all I can say is grasp every moment you get to stroke your mum's forehead and tell her that you love her. There are so many who never get the chance...

Whilst I know this is so terribly painful for you I am pleased that your Mum's friend was able to bring you some comfort at this time.

My love and {{HUGS}} to you and your family, Natalya (talj) xx

Dame Honoria Glossop said...

Maggie, big hugs. I don't know if your mum is aware of anything or not, but she may feel comforted by your touch.
I'll be thinking of you.

cusp said...

I think maybe Norah is right. It may be you Mum's time for some peace and to be nearer your Dad.

I know waht you mean about the circling vultures. I remmeber when my own parents were dying it was like the longest, cruelest waiting and guessing game.

In fact your waiting for a peaceful end and it does sound as if your Mum is peaceful which is a blessing.

Take it carefully, one step at a time. Be gentle with yourself.

Much love

seahorse said...

I was told by a nurse at my Dad's hospice that hearing is the last sense to go, and that talking softly and touching can be enormously comforting. So I held his hand and talked to him. Death brings out such tenderness. I wish you lots of rest, when you can, and the chance to really rest and heal when the time comes. I am thinking of you.

Robyn said...

Dear Maggie, please don't imagine yourselves as 'circling vultures' or your will miss some of those last precious moments with your mother. Hold her hand, talk to her -if not for her then for you. My thoughts and prayers are with you from the other side of the world.

peri said...

Dear Maggie

I am really at a lose as to what to say - other than you are in my thoughts.

Peri xxxx

Mary said...

Maggie, I am sure you know that we are all thinking of you - including the readers who don't post comments because they're not sure what to say or can only echo the comments of those before them (if I'm honest I thought I was going to be one of them after reading this post).