To Sleep; Perchance to Dream

And so it begins.  

This morning, my brother and his wife drove down from Seattle and joined me in the Last Rites for Mom.  Later, we would meet with Noel, the hospice nurse.

The Last Rite is a ritual of the Catholic Church, of which we are members.  Many, apparently, confuse it with the Anointing of the Sick, or Extreme Unction.  The Last Rites are given to those who are beginning or already transitioning from this body and dying.  So, it was appropriate that Father Pat Donahue came in and performed it.

When my brother and his wife arrived they did a double-take at Mom.  They couldn’t believe it was the same woman who was in the photo in Sunday’s post.  Honestly, she did look quite different.  She was asleep, but her face was hollowing, her eyes swollen, and her mouth gave the appearance she hadn’t put in her dentures (but she does have all her own teeth, so that’s what makes it a little alarming).  

Mom came to for a few seconds but then dropped (not drifted) back into slumbers.  

Morina came in and told us that she had spent 2 hours the previous evening spoon-feeding pureed food to Mom, just to help her eat and get some nutrition into her system.  I swear, these caregivers and workers are angels - they go far and beyond their call, and they’re always smiling and looking for more ways to improve the quality of life for the residents.  

After we’d finished with the ritual, we (Tom, Peg, and I) went out to the dining area and Noel appeared.  We discussed what was going on.  

Noel explained to us that what Mom is going through is a typical method for the body to begin shutting down.  That she won’t/can’t eat, and cannot take fluids is something that actually helps the person avoid pain and suffering.  Were Mom to be re-hydrated, she would become more aware of the changes and things her body is going through and it would create suffering.  As it stands, she is in a state of delirium which keeps her from noting any of this.   Feeding her anything is fine, but unnecessary, as it will not help.   It seems as though Mom has already aspirated some food and fluids, which doesn’t help the situation.

We were also told that this transition could take a few hours, days, or even a week.  After that, though, it wouldn’t be long before the finality of her life is realized.  So, my phone is near my bed and charged in case.  

We also learned that during this period, Mom may have temperature increases and drops.  She will develop temporary fevers and then these will break and she will grow cooler.  This may be a cycle.  Her breathing, too, will be cyclical - long breaths with short ones, apneatic breaks, and then deep breaths again.  There were several patterns described.  

Mom is no longer on any medications except the methadone, which can be absorbed through the cheeks, so giving her some drops is simple.   There is no need for anything else, but the staff is ready if there is.

Jean came and spent some time with her lifelong friend (85 years!).  It was touching to see how she tended to Mom and was there to protect her.  

Now, it really has hit that each time we see her may be our last.   Luckily, there are many who have given fodder of memories in preparation for that event which seals the finality.   When that occurs, I still don’t know, but it may be sooner than we all wish.