This will take me a bit to complete, and tonight will not be the night. My stepmom, Mary Douglas, passed over to the Summerlands on February 12th, at about 1.15 PM. This last few days has been a blur of activity, and my dad, my step sister and myself are only now finding time to really come to terms with all this.
We were all three there with her as she took her last breath, with step brother Dave on the phone with Sandy. I don't think there had been a "person" there for about 24 hours, but just the same.....
Immediately things changed direction and got stupidly busy. It is the time when we need to be with family and friends in a state of quiet, and even with all the best intentions from those who came from all corners of the country, it was not. Today, when the last flew or drove out of town, was the first time any of us had had to really be calm inside and let feelings seep thru.
I was surprised at how upset I got. It hadn't really sunk in yet I guess. Everytime someone leaves this world, the lives that person touched change for good. I have wondered of my relationship with Dave and Sandy, and their's with dad. My other sibs know them, but there is not the same kind of relationship by any means. Hell, I don't have the same connection with my blood family as I do with them. Dad is going to come out of this, though the hurt never goes away completely. So will I. Still, everything has changed. Maybe part of my mourning is for that. I am in no state of mind to figure that out tonight.
I have much to talk about still but I need some down time too. I've gone from waiting for a conclusion, to being overwhelmed by people, back to being alone. I think I just need a rest.
No matter what is written here, I do know this much- I miss my step mom.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Dear Family
Today has been a rough day. Dad called around 9 am, saying he thought it was down to hours, if not minutes. Both Sandy and I raced over to the house, to find Mary awake, though very very weak.
After too long a wait, a Vitas nurse, male, came, and examined Mary. John was a good guy, and oddly enough, being told some of this stuff by a male seemed to help dad. Bigoted, but not surprising. John gently encouraged the use of the drugs dad has, for Mary's comfort as much as anything.
After John left, dad suggested lunch from a nearby sub shop (Zito's- very good if you come down !) and while he was out with me, Sandy took the initiative to use the syringe medicine delivery thingee, and got a half dose of the ativan and a full dose of the morphine into Mary. Dad was a bit relieved I think to find that the syringe worked. The coke and all had just not been cutting it.
Only problem now is he's concerned because she has been asleep since about 12.30 (about 6 hours now) and she hasn't been doing that lately. I told him to phone to Vitas to ask questions if she doesn't wake up at say, 8 hours, or so. It is the combination of the drugs that is causing this, but her breathing is fine. She may actually be getting some rest. I wish he could.
It is still a waiting game, and Mary's tenacity is astounding frankly. I wish I could give you clearer ideas on how long. No one can.
Talk at you soon.
Patricia
After too long a wait, a Vitas nurse, male, came, and examined Mary. John was a good guy, and oddly enough, being told some of this stuff by a male seemed to help dad. Bigoted, but not surprising. John gently encouraged the use of the drugs dad has, for Mary's comfort as much as anything.
After John left, dad suggested lunch from a nearby sub shop (Zito's- very good if you come down !) and while he was out with me, Sandy took the initiative to use the syringe medicine delivery thingee, and got a half dose of the ativan and a full dose of the morphine into Mary. Dad was a bit relieved I think to find that the syringe worked. The coke and all had just not been cutting it.
Only problem now is he's concerned because she has been asleep since about 12.30 (about 6 hours now) and she hasn't been doing that lately. I told him to phone to Vitas to ask questions if she doesn't wake up at say, 8 hours, or so. It is the combination of the drugs that is causing this, but her breathing is fine. She may actually be getting some rest. I wish he could.
It is still a waiting game, and Mary's tenacity is astounding frankly. I wish I could give you clearer ideas on how long. No one can.
Talk at you soon.
Patricia
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
A Little Relief
I will expound a bit more later, but I am in such shock, joy, and relief in the same moment, I have to do something! I called my dad, for the daily check in, and he asked me if I wanted a cheese burger and shake for dinner tonight. Now, for those who don't know him, especially in this circumstance, that meant: if you'll pick it up, I'm paying. He hasn't asked for any such thing out of me or my stepsister since this wait began. From just that, I know he's going to be okay. Sure, this will still hurt, but it will also be an easing of pain in the final cut.
And the reason for his sudden change is that he got Mary to take some of the morphine, in a sly manner, and she slept soundly for the first time in days. His relief is mine- for both of them. Apparently Sandy suggested slipping some into a little bit of Coke, and Mary drank it. It is supposed to be sublingual, but by whatever means, hm?
And the reason for his sudden change is that he got Mary to take some of the morphine, in a sly manner, and she slept soundly for the first time in days. His relief is mine- for both of them. Apparently Sandy suggested slipping some into a little bit of Coke, and Mary drank it. It is supposed to be sublingual, but by whatever means, hm?
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Waitng Game
It is no game truly, but a lesson in utter frustration.I do not know what any of us expected Hospice to be able to do, but it does seem once again that they have little part to play in this game. Mary is not willing to take even the liquid drugs, morphine and ativan, that could at least ease her into the eternal sleep. No, no one is trying to kill her, just make certain she is not in any kind of pain or anxiety. Due to her failure to understand her own illness- even acknowledge she has one- she will accept no help. I am sorry for my father, who has finally come to terms, I think, with exactly where this is going. He has to be frustrated with Mary not eating, staying in bed all the time, and not taking any meds of any kind. This is the way it goes, unless one is "lucky" enough to go out quickly.
I had a bit of a conflict with dad the other night, right after he received the drugs from the Hospice people. He didn't know what they were for or how to give them to her, and above all whether he would be able to give them to her anyway. No one else would be able to. Sandy did try the next day, as well as bring dad all kinds of reading to help him interprete Mary's needs. While it helped him feel better prepared, it all ends up being pointless. Mary will not take anything, period.
A question of a patient's right to choose hovered in our conversation. I started to wonder if this is the reason we can choose to put down an animal but insist on trying to sustain a human life out of reason. At least dad knows not to try to keep Mary on forced life support. He doesn't want her to die, to lose his wife of 29 years, but he also doesn't want her to suffer. Fear and stress would be the center of her world if any machines were attached to her right now. If she goes into a coma, always a possiblity, then monitors will be necessary to some extent. I know I sound morbid to those who fear dying, but I am hoping that one night, when they have gone to sleep holding hands, she will just slip away. I believe in the right to dignity, and that would be the best for hers.
This feeling of utter helplessness kind of floats over all involved here. Other than being there to let Dad get out of the house for small errands, or just to have a break, is about all we can do now. We have done all that was open to us, and it feels like so little. Coming from a family of people who need to DO to feel they have not failed, do something, anything, ....this is a true test of spirit. I personally am very frustrated.
The next step- making sure dad can shake loose of the bind he has been in now for months, very nearly alone- cannot happen until we have an end. I think that's what I am waiting on. To rally there for dad. make sure he knows its okay to go on living...to help him part with Mary's things, clothes and such, ...to help him find new goals. I went thru my own version of hell taking care of my mom's world, virtually alone. I will not let my father do that, even though I know him well enough. He will put on the brave face, the ever-stalward Colonel, and keep his pain and loss to himself. he and I are much alike- unable to be dependant on others most of the time. We learned to stand on our own in this life. Anything else is weakness.
Yeah, I know in my heart that isn't true, but training can be a hard thing to put aside, and he's got nearly forty years more of than on me.
*sigh*
I feel rather useless today, as far as this is concerned, so pardon if I go take some Aleve, and try to do some mundane chores. At least the day won't feel like a total waste.
I had a bit of a conflict with dad the other night, right after he received the drugs from the Hospice people. He didn't know what they were for or how to give them to her, and above all whether he would be able to give them to her anyway. No one else would be able to. Sandy did try the next day, as well as bring dad all kinds of reading to help him interprete Mary's needs. While it helped him feel better prepared, it all ends up being pointless. Mary will not take anything, period.
A question of a patient's right to choose hovered in our conversation. I started to wonder if this is the reason we can choose to put down an animal but insist on trying to sustain a human life out of reason. At least dad knows not to try to keep Mary on forced life support. He doesn't want her to die, to lose his wife of 29 years, but he also doesn't want her to suffer. Fear and stress would be the center of her world if any machines were attached to her right now. If she goes into a coma, always a possiblity, then monitors will be necessary to some extent. I know I sound morbid to those who fear dying, but I am hoping that one night, when they have gone to sleep holding hands, she will just slip away. I believe in the right to dignity, and that would be the best for hers.
This feeling of utter helplessness kind of floats over all involved here. Other than being there to let Dad get out of the house for small errands, or just to have a break, is about all we can do now. We have done all that was open to us, and it feels like so little. Coming from a family of people who need to DO to feel they have not failed, do something, anything, ....this is a true test of spirit. I personally am very frustrated.
The next step- making sure dad can shake loose of the bind he has been in now for months, very nearly alone- cannot happen until we have an end. I think that's what I am waiting on. To rally there for dad. make sure he knows its okay to go on living...to help him part with Mary's things, clothes and such, ...to help him find new goals. I went thru my own version of hell taking care of my mom's world, virtually alone. I will not let my father do that, even though I know him well enough. He will put on the brave face, the ever-stalward Colonel, and keep his pain and loss to himself. he and I are much alike- unable to be dependant on others most of the time. We learned to stand on our own in this life. Anything else is weakness.
Yeah, I know in my heart that isn't true, but training can be a hard thing to put aside, and he's got nearly forty years more of than on me.
*sigh*
I feel rather useless today, as far as this is concerned, so pardon if I go take some Aleve, and try to do some mundane chores. At least the day won't feel like a total waste.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
