Thursday September 11, 2014: The Beginning of the End

September 11th always evokes a day of reflection and sadness for me as I'm sure it does most Americans. I was a freshman in college at Purdue the day of the terrorist attacks on America. I walked by a big screen TV in the Union and noted all the students gathered around it. I naively thought it must be some big sport event. I walked on to my chemistry class and sat down clueless to what was going on. I do remember what my professor said though, "Bad things happening in the world, but we must go on with chemistry." After class I walked back to my dorm and my friends told me what had happened. I still don't think I grasped the gravity of the situation. My mom and boyfriend called to check on me, to make sure I was okay and I began to grasp how scared everyone one was.

September 11th now also marks another day of reflection and sadness for me. It was the day that marked the beginning of the end for my mother, the day I knew the end was near.

I had been able to get off work early on Thursday and I stopped at Starbucks before I went home. I sat there thinking about my mom. I planned to go visit her that weekend, possibly take Amelia with me. We would leave Saturday morning and return home Sunday evening. I hated that I could only spend weekends with her. I wanted her to be close to me. I remembered something a nurse Lisa had said to me at The Forum and I made this post on Facebook:

I went home after that and then later I believe I dropped the girls off at Kristina's as she was watching them the next day. I went to Target after that. I called my mom as I was leaving Target and I asked how she was doing. She said, "Did Aunt Pat tell you to call me?" I said, "No, why?" She croaked out, "Oh Danielle, I don't feel good, I don't feel good at all. I'm so tired." She had been having nausea and vomiting the last couple of days she told me, she had hardly been able to eat. I told her I still planned to come on Saturday morning, but maybe I could come Friday after work instead. She responded, "Oh Danielle, please come Friday if you can." I said I absolutely would and I then I said, "Mom, I need you to think about this, I want you to come home with me on Sunday." Without hesitation she said, "Ok." I paused and she said, "You didn't expect me to say that did you?" I had not, not so easily. I told her I loved her and we got off the phone. I burst into tears. She's dying, she's dying.

I work with geriatric patients in long term care facilities and there is usually a moment I can pinpoint when the terminal decline begins. They grow so tired. They stop eating. I knew my mom was there. 

I cried the whole way home. She was dying. The end had come. I got home and Spencer asked what was wrong. I just said, "She's dying." He tried to be positive, to say she was not.

I got ready for bed and laid down. I laid there a few minutes thinking about my Facebook post and my mom. I needed to go, I needed to take care of my mom. It was time. I needed to go to Muncie. I needed to go home. 

I quickly packed a bag and told Spencer I was leaving. I was going tonight. I quickly texted her to let her know so she wouldn't be startled since it was late.

That is the very last text between my mom and I.

I drove to Muncie reflecting on three years prior in September when I had made a similar journey for my niece Caitlyn. Carly had called me worried about Caitlyn, she was not moving as much, she looked yellow.  Ryan and Carly had found out in June their perfect baby girl had the terminal diagnosis of spinal muscular atrophy. In September she had been in the hospital with pneumonia, she hated the bipap machine and they decided at that point to not pursue aggressive care. I drove up in the middle of the night that Friday and stayed with them through the weekend. She stopped breathing twice and I talked to them about hospice. After an ER visit this was the avenue they decided to pursue. She was given 48 hours but by the grace of God we were given 4 more months to treasure her. 

I arrived at mom's apartment and walked in. She was in the bathroom, she had been vomiting and was cleaning herself up in the sink. She was so pale. She walked back to the living room and sat down on the couch and I sat in her recliner. We talked a little bit and then she said, "Danielle, is there anything that can make me better?" I told her there might be, but at this point she would need to go to the hospital. She just looked at me, she did not respond. She said it was time to lie down. She told me to lie down and go to sleep. And so I did.

8 days left