This was the latest post from the Barbara Kay site. My sister, Janis, wrote the first section, and I wrote the second.
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Janis shares this from the week:
This week there have been changes with Mom. She has been more pensive and withdrawn. She has seemed weaker with each day. There have been a few intermittent episodes of a new abdominal pain that have been relieved with relatively small doses of morphine. Still, we have continued the same routines: she's read her paper; had her coffee with breakfast; enjoyed each of the 3 meals of the day, often craving special dishes. She's followed her TV programs. However, Tuesday evening Cheryl noted how little she spoke and how much she dozed. Wednesday she did the same. She spent much of the day with her eyes closed, even when she was not asleep. She once commented with some emotion that she finally was realizing just how helpless she was becoming, but assured me again she was not afraid to die. We had a poignant conversation that day.
She was in a relaxed state when someone special from Adventist Hospice visited us. Our caring hospice nurse remembered how Barbara had mentioned the beauty and peace she felt when Al had played the piano for her in the past. She asked for a thanatologist (one who studies the process of dying) who plays the harp to visit Mom. When she arrived, I roused Mom, and she smiled and welcomed this lovely woman. The woman stated this was not meant to be a concert or presentation, and that if we fell asleep, she would consider it a compliment! The science of what she did involved timing Mom's breathing pattern. She watched Mom as she rested the entire time she played. I cannot adequately relate the beauty that came from the tones on the harp. The clarity, the rhythms, the gentleness, and the harmonies lulled me into closing my eyes. I envisioned myself on the beach with Jesus, as He welcomed me, reassured me, let His love flow to me. I have never heard anything so beautiful and soothing on this earth. We were truly blessed and ministered to as she played for about 45 minutes, humming quietly on one song, and softly singing "Amazing Grace" and a song about "My Healer." My closed eyes had silent, peaceful tears streaming from them by the end, and Mom seemed to have fallen asleep, but intermittently at the end of a song, without opening her eyes or moving, she smiled and said, "that's so pretty!" The woman told us what an honor it had been to be with us; I insist the honor was all ours.
Thursday Mom kept sleeping in late. I had administered some morphine before bed and wondered if that caused her to sleep more. However, she did not rise until 1 p.m. and then, she only stayed awake one hour. She didn't go through her usual routine; her newspaper remained unread, and she didn't drink much of her coffee. We didn't turn on the TV. She slept a couple more hours and then just ate a snack and wanted to go to bed...without dinner. She's always been hungry for dinner, but that was not on her mind. She was in bed for the night only about 4 hours after she had gotten up for the day. We knew then that things were changing.
Cheryl shares this:
I had arrived for the Thursday night to all-day Friday shift. Mom woke up a couple of times during the night, but each time went right back to bed. She tried to eat a little breakfast in bed early Friday morning, but grew tired and only managed to eat about 5 small spoonfuls of cereal I had been feeding her. She promptly went back to sleep. The hospice nurse, Stacey, called that morning to say she would be late in getting to the apartment, but wondered how Mom was doing. I told her about all the changes we had seen in the last 2 days and Stacey concurred that we are in the next phase, adding further that she felt Mom would "transition fast."
When Stacey arrived Friday afternoon Mom was sleeping and barely roused when her vital signs were being checked, or when Stacey demonstrated how to use the mouth swabs to keep Mom's mouth moist. She knew the nurse was there but didn't engage much.
After spending about 1-1/2 hours at the apartment, giving counsel and help, Stacey said she felt Mom was in the process of "actively dying" and stated that Mom would most likely slip into a coma soon. She let us know what to look for, how to keep Mom comfortable, what the process may look like, and so forth. She added that it wouldn't surprise her if these were Mom's final few days, although one never knows for sure, but said she "had a feeling" that Mom would go fast because she seems so "ready" and peaceful. This dear nurse, who has become an assuring friend, commented that it is a privilege to be caring for Mom, and that often she leaves her visit with a smile on her face because she feels so encouraged and up-lifted from being there. She has truly enjoyed being with Mom and us, and we have been so blessed to have Stacey by our side.
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Addendum:
So far this week, Mom is still somewhat alert and even eating and drinking a little. My sisters were with her yesterday and noted that she is "different" and still detached. When she is talking, she is very confused and not making any sense. I will be going and staying overnight tonight again, and then again for the Thursday/Friday shift.
Oh, yeah, did I mention we're moving again? It's a good thing--really--and truly a blessing to our family from the Lord! The timing of everything has me stretched to the utmost limit...but I haven't gone over the edge--yet! Phase one begins next week....Stay tuned for the full scoop!
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