It's Over

My mom died.  That's so very hard to say.  I could never imagine it coming to pass.  But here it is.

They did move her from ICU, because she was doing so much better.  But, on Saturday, I received a call at around 8:00 in the morning.  It was her night nurse.  He told me that my mother was "coding."  I later learned that her respiration slowed down to nothing, and her heart stopped.  My mother always wanted efforts to be made if there was any hope.  So, we did not leave a DNR order for her.

I called my brother and my father.  My brother is about 45 minutes from the hospital.  I live an hour away.  Yet, I got there first.

Her room was empty.  I panicked.  Then I learned that they'd moved her back to ICU.  She was on a ventilator, because they didn't think she could breathe on her own quite yet.  She was a little confused when I saw her, and struggling to get out of the hand restraints that the nurses said were necessary to make sure she didn't pull out the breathing tube or the IVs.

Because it was the weekend, we were all able to stay without having to worry about calling work.  They threw us out before 2:00 to attend to her.  We were allowed to return from 4:00 to 8:00.  And we did.  And we did the same thing on Sunday, though we were limited to two people.  My father wanted to be there the whole time; my brother and I took shifts.

We watched my mom go downhill from Saturday morning until Sunday evening at 8:00 when we had to leave.  In the beginning, she was somewhat responsive.  At the end of the visiting day on Sunday, she seemed to be unresponsive.  The big problem was keeping her blood pressure up over 100.  If they could just do that, then they could start dialysis (her kidneys had stalled again).  I whispered in her ear that she needed to work on that before I left.

Until this point, the doctors had given us some hope, though all had said that she was in trouble.  Even though her liver values were in the normal range, she was having problems with her heart, lung, and kidneys, which they all believed was due to her liver problems.  And, she had developed an infection that was resistant to antibiotics.  They left me with the belief that Monday was the day that we would have to make a decision.

As it turned out, we didn't have to.  At 10:00 on Sunday evening, the nurse called and said that my mother's blood pressure had dropped, and none of the medications they were using to bring it back up were having any effect.  I asked if she was dying, and she said yes, that no one can live very long with a blood pressure as low as my mother had (generally, around 75/30).

We all returned.  After we got there, I asked how long she had, and the nurse told me it could be a couple of hours, or it could be a couple of days.  I immediately felt bad dragging my father back to the hospital.  We were all exhausted, but at 77, I imagine that it was more draining to him.

So, we sat.  And waited.  And watched the monitors.  The nurse brought in two additional recliner chairs so that we could try to get some sleep as we stayed with her.  I positioned my recliner next to her bed, so that I could lie next to her.  I jammed pillows above and below my hand, so that I could always be holding my mom's hand, even if I fell asleep.  It was the least I could do, and I know she would have done it for me.

I've mentioned that my mother and I have sometimes had a difficult relationship.  I was a brat when I was a teenager, and I rejected my parents as hopelessly irrelevant.  I didn't have much to do with then when I was in my 20's and 30's, mostly because I always seemed to be in night school.  But after I got married, things changed.  I realized just how wonderful my parents were, and we became very close.  That was over eight years ago.  But still, no one could push my buttons faster than my mom.  I would often yell at her.  She rarely yelled back.  I felt so badly about this, and I tried to talk with her about it before she went to ICU.  She dismissed it, saying that I had been a good daughter.  But, on Saturday, after my father went down to the cafeteria, I was able to tell my mother how much I really loved her, and how very, very sorry I was for ever treating her badly.  She wasn't perfect, but she was the very best mom I could have asked for.  I know that she heard me, because at that point she was still able to respond to us.

On that awful night, as I lay next to my mother, a wonderful thing happened.  Sleep escaped me, but I was bathed in the warmth of one wonderful memory after another.  Memories of just my mom and me, of our whole lives together.  Memories of childhood.  Memories of my wedding.  Memories of the last day we spent together, when she held me as I cried because I was worried about her slipping health.  She'd asked me then, "Do you believe in God?"  I told her of course I did.  "Well, then there's nothing to worry about then."  I think that on some level, she was trying to give me one final gift on her last night here on earth.  A gift of love.  To let me see that all was forgiven, that in the end, our true heart is all that matters.

At around 3:30, my mother's heart rate started fluctuating.  At 4:00, her heart just stopped.  It was over quickly.  We were told that she was not in any pain.

The doctors had already told me that my mother was not sick as a result of the cat bite.  Her main doctor told me that he used that as an excuse to get her into the hospital, because she was much sicker than she appeared.  In the end, I believe that she died of sepsis.  All along, the doctors had been talking to us about an infection in her body that she was trying to fend off.  It was just so low on my radar screen that I really didn't hear it.  I was worried about everything else.  But, sepsis probably caused her kidneys to fail and her blood pressure to drop.

Since then, we have just been performing our obligations.  Or, actually, I've been performing most of our obligations.  My father is feeling lost, because my mother always did everything for him.  My brother has expressed no preferences one way or another -- somehow, I find this incredibly annoying.  I have often felt overwhelmed since my mother left us.  I dread the thought of what kind of funeral she would have had if it were up to the two of them, instant indecision makers that they are.  I'm thankful that my mother drilled her history, my history, into my head.  It allowed me to answer the funeral home's questions easily.  We still have some decisions to make, but I guess we will talk about them tonight.  I think we will probably lay her to rest on Saturday, many miles away in a grave that is near her parents.

In a few minutes, I will start to get ready for the funeral home.  It will be the first time that I've seen my mom since early Monday morning.  I am dreading it.  I don't know how any of us will get through the visitation.  I wonder about stupid things, like whether I should even bother with makeup.  Because I've pretty much cried it all off every time I've put it on.

Lord help us all.  But most of all, please take good care of my mother.  We miss her so.  And mom, if you could, please leave me some kind of a sign to let me know that you live on.  Because that is the only thing that is keeping me going.  Hoping against hope that someday, I will see you again, healthy and whole.

Comments

[ashley]

I am so, so sorry but so glad that she did not feel any pain when it was time to go. Thinking good thoughts and wishing blessings your way.

[Drowned Girl]

Oh honey. I'm so sorry. That sounds so hard. But I'm glad she went peacefully and you were there, and you had spoken to her as you did.

[BrooklynGirl]

I'm so sorry for your loss. Wishing you peace.

[Kris]

I'm so sorry. I cried through the whole post. Hope you get that sign you're looking for.

[Kami]

I am so sorry. I'm glad you were able to be with her and make some peace.

[Colleen]

I'm so sorry. I've been praying for you and your mom all week. Tonight I'll be praying that she is in peace, in heaven, smiling down upon you.

[Pam]

I'm so sorry for your loss.

[sheilah]

I am so so sorry. I am very glad that you had the opportunity to tell your mother what she meant to you before she died.

Peace.

[Mel]

I am so so sorry. I love that you had that moment where you could lie together and you could remember all of those times together.

[Anjali]

Oh, my, I am so so sorry. There are just no words. My heart aches for you.

[daisy]

I don't know what to say. There is nothing I can say but that I am sorry, and that I am holding you in my heart. I am so deeply sorry.
Daisy

[Linda]

I'm so sorry. My thoughts are with you and your family.

[Kristen]

I am so very sorry for your loss. XOXO

[Heather.PNR]

I am so sorry.

[JuliaKB]

I am so sorry for your loss. I hope the important and peaceful memories of your last weekend together can bring you some comfort in these difficult times.

[Orodemniades]

I'm so sorry for your loss.

[Tigger]

I am in tears over here. I'm so sorry this has happened. I hope you are able to find peace eventually.

[Bea]

I'm so sorry you lost your mother. Wishing you and your family strength through this time.

Bea

[roni]

I'm so terribly sorry for your loss. I will pray for strength for your family and peace for your mother.

[Jenn (dish)]

I am so so sorry. Please know that you and your family are in my thoughts and prayers.

[Robbin]

My deepest sympathies. Peace be with you and your family at this time.

[Elizabeth]

Oh, I am so sorry. Please know you're in my thoughts and prayers.

[Liza's Eyeview]

I just heard of your mom's passing through Genbetween's Blog (by Elizabeth). I go there regularly because I an a sandwich generation and is taking care of my parents.

I am so touched by this...especially because you and I have the same relationship with mothers. My mom and I are didn't have the "girlfiends" kind of relationship that other moms and daughters do, and my mom pushes my button faster than anyone could - but we love each other dearly, very dearly, like y and your mom.

HUGS to you my dear. This is my first time to come o your blog. Maybe I'll come visit again...

[Pam]

It's so hollow, isn't it? Everyone says you did everything you could, and you did do everything you could. But the empty spot is still there, and it's large, and there is nothing to fill it.

My mother died on June 6, 2007 and it was the worst day of my life, so far.

May God bless you and keep you. Please take care.