I got up for the day and showered and dressed. I opened the blinds and arranged the curtains in the particular way my Mom liked them. I made several calls that Monday, I was on call for work too so those contributed. I made 21 phone calls that day. I called the lawyer. I asked her what would happen since Mom didn't sign the POA paperwork or a will. How would this affect things after she died? She reassured me everything for the most part should be ok. Mom did not have many worldly possessions or a grand estate that would need divided up thank goodness. She had designated beneficiaries on her insurance policies and retirement so those were taken care of.
Next I called and canceled all her appointments. One by one I checked them off the list...primary care doctor, oncologist, radiation oncologist, pulmonologist, wound doctor, podiatrist. There were so many appointments. I told each one she was going on hospice and they expressed their condolences.
I believe that morning I also went to her bank in order to get the certified check to pay her rent. Her friend Diane stayed with her while I was gone. When I returned Mom was asleep but Diane said she had sat up and stared out the window for probably five minutes. She didn't say a word and then laid back down.
It was getting to be afternoon and I hadn't heard anything from hospice yet about what time they would be coming so I called. I wanted to make sure she wasn't forgotten.
Mom woke up a little later. I offered to help her get washed up a little, but she said maybe later. She remarked, "I just need some ambition." It made me laugh. That was a saying she used her whole life. She had so many things she wanted to accomplish, she was always saying she needed some more "ambition." That was the last thing she needed to worry about now.
I texted Sean to keep him updated on Mom's condition, that she still hadn't eaten anything since Friday. I think he felt helpless in California. His trip in July was supposed to be his final trip to Indiana as they were 5 hours from an international airport and it was expensive and difficult especially with Liam's autism. I could tell he was getting anxious though and wanted badly to be here. He said he wanted to talk to her and I said she really just slept most of the day and was in and out of lucidity but I would try. He said, "Please Danielle even if it's just for a minute, I need to talk to her."
The hospice nurse called and said she'd be there about 5 PM. I woke her up about 4:30 and she sat up. I said Sean wanted to talk to her and I called him and put the phone to her ear. He told her about Teal's interview at Berkeley and Mom remarked at how smart Teal was and she knew she would do great. Sean told her how much he loved her and how he knew that he gave her a lot of trouble but he knew she always supported him. She put up her index finger as if trying to make a point that yes, while their relationship was tumultuous at times, she did love him and always wanted what was best for him. She said many things about how much she loved him, but Sean told me he had a hard time understanding her on the phone. We hung up and she actually wanted a cup of soup which I was excited about. Unfortunately the hospice nurse came about that time and Mom left her soup uneaten.
Of course Pat Sexton pulled herself together for the evaluation and interview with the nurse. She gathered every bit of lucidity she had and put her glasses on and sat in her recliner. She instructed me to go get a note pad to write things down. She had been trying to keep up in her calendar but she was too weak. My Mom's beautiful handwriting, the same handwriting that had personally addressed over 100 wedding invitations for me was reduced to scribbles.
The hospice nurse went through many, many things with Mom and I. She was there for three hours. She remarked about how she could already tell my Mom was a wonderful person and that she was going to enjoy having her as a patient. All I could think was that no, you're not, she's not going to be here much longer. Don't you see that? She asked my Mom what a tolerable level of pain for her was and Mom replied, "An 8." We both looked at her like she was crazy. The nurse tried to reword it, "No what level do you want your pain to be at where you would feel comfortable?" She still replied, "An 8." I laughed at that point. Seriously Mom? I tried to explain it to her and finally she said, "Fine, a 3," as she just threw out a number. She certainly did have a high pain tolerance.
The hospice nurse moved on to a questionnaire for me as her caregiver. I'll never forget one question, "Are you emotionally dependent on your mother?" she asked. My Mom and I just looked at each other. I told the hospice nurse I didn't really know what she meant. "Dependent" sounded bad. I explained my Mom and I were very close, but I didn't feel "dependent" on her. My final answer was, "Yes, but in a good way." Without hesitation I know what my answer would be now. Yes, I am emotionally dependent on my Mom, in every way possible, good, bad, for better or worse. People who were close to my Mom and I could probably easily see that. If she was happy I was happy, joyful, if she was mad, I was anxious, worried, tearful. My Mom and I were not the mother/daughter type to spend every moment together or even talk on the phone all that often (once a week was the goal), but I was completely wrapped up in my Mother. I can see that so easily now. I didn't see it then...didn't feel it...until she unraveled from me.
The nurse finished up the visit. Mom requested a copy of all her notes. The nurse looked a little incredulous but obliged and handed me her papers so I could make copies. She said she would visit Mom once a week unless more visits were necessitated. She said she was so happy to have Mom on her caseload, how sweet she was, and that she would see her next Monday. Again, all I could think was no, no you won't. She hadn't eaten anything in 4 days. She's not going to be here next Monday. Don't you see that?
I decided to make a post on Facebook to let people know about Mom being on hospice. The cancer had come upon her quickly and she had not let many people know. I wanted her friends to know, I wanted my friends to know. She had deteriorated so rapidly, it was almost unbelievable.
I needed to get ready for the work the next day and I needed to put Mom to bed. She had put on a grand show for the hospice nurse for 3 hours but now she was exhausted and weak. She was too weak to walk with her walker. I lifted her with her hands on my shoulder into her wheelchair, shifted her to bedside commode, lifted her up onto the commode so she could try to go to the bathroom, and then lifted her to the couch. It was such a process to get her a distance of only 5 or 6 feet.
The nurse had given me things I could use to clean out her mouth and keep it moist so I did that and gave her her pain medicine and a phenergan suppository. I kissed her goodnight, covered her up, and laid down in the recliner prepared for another long night.
4 days left
All of your posts have touched me, Danirlle. But this one... This one made me sob. For you, for your brother, for your amazing mother. I wish I could lift this burden for you and ease your pain and sorrow. ((Hugs)) always thinking of you! ❤️
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