Downward Spiral

Things aren't any better with my mom. They are actually getting worse and worse by the moment. I spent the entire day at her house yesterday. A couple of times I walked into her room, and though she was very confused, she seemed to be having more coherent moments than the day before. I found myself a little excited.I was thinking, maybe she's getting used to this new pain patch, and she's going to be normal again soon. I was wrong. Very, very wrong. At one point, later in the day, mom came out of her room in her pajamas, her purse on her shoulder and a cigarette in her mouth. She tried to light the filter end and smoke it backwards. She also had all of her money in her hand. She said she was headed to pay her electric bill. She was stumbling so much I was afraid she would fall. I was scared that she was going to fall on one of the kids who were running around the house. Amber was crying. I was crying. She insisted that she was going to drive herself. She seemed kind of angry. I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared. It was like watching a Lifetime movie about an Alzheimer's patient. In that moment, she didn't even know she was confused. It was like convincing a drunk person that they shouldn't get behind the wheel. Josh snapped "this is ridiculous mom, you can't drive". She kept walking as though she was not letting anyone stop her. Finally, we talked it out, calmed the situation down, and found middle ground. She agreed to let Amber drive her. In reality, she shouldn't have even left the house. I was scared the phone would ring, and Amber would say that mom was being defiant or trying to get out of the car. Luckily, she rode calmly, then came home and went back to bed. I cried the whole time she was gone. It was then that I realized how bad she was. She's really, really bad. I also realized, it's not the medicine, like I hoped. When this happened, it had been over 8 hours since her last dose. It's the disease. It's completely taken my mom from me mentally and emotionally. Now we watch and wait for it to conquer her physically as well.

When Ronnie got home, we tried to explain to him the events that had unfolded through the day. Unfortunately, I don't think he realized the severity of the situation. When he saw for himself, he took off work a couple of days and cancelled his weekend trip to a coaching clinic in Dallas this weekend. I could tell that he was completely devastated, as we all were and still are. It is amazing how fast this is all happening. We phoned mom's siblings in Taylorsville to inform them of the drastic changes. Since Ronnie and Josh were staying with her, I went on home to pack a bag and head back today to "move in" for a while. I told mom I would do this a long time ago. I just can't believe that time has finally come. Last night, was pretty rough. For some reason, night time brings with it all of my anxieties and fears. During the day, I am pretty much numb. I watch family members cry, but I am emotionless. When I finally fell asleep, I rested well. But I dreamed of her. Then when I woke up, I couldn't fall back asleep. My mind was too busy. I just can't believe this is happening. The situation has deteriorated so fast. I know people think that we have had plenty of time to prepare, but we are not prepared. Not even close. She was fine last week. Not great. But fine. Now she is gone. Still here but gone. She does still tell us that she loves us--but that's about it. She is just lost in that head of hers.

Today was horrendous. She barely woke up, but when she did, she made NO sense. Her body was too weak to jump out of bed and demand to go anywhere. But she still seemed a bit agitated. She had alot of visitors today too. She is confused by her sisters and brother and others coming so frequently out of the blue. She is a smart woman. Though her mind is beginning to fail her, she knows that something is up. She keeps asking why everyone is here. We were honest "Mom, you're not doing too good. Everyone just wanted to see you, that's all." I laid in the bed with her earlier, and I told her "mama I know you're confused, but you are okay. We are going to take care of you". Though her eyes were closed, she mumbled "I know baby". I hope she really does know, and I hope it brings her some comfort. I have also told her repeatedly that I am proud of her. This is something I often told her when she was in a better mindstate. But I continue to tell her, because I keep getting prouder and prouder. She has fought like a champion, and even now she fights on.

I spent the day trying to find someone from Antioch Methodist Church to sell us a plot for mom. She loves that beautiful red brick church and the well maitained cemetary. She also liked the idea of being close to home.....Her favorite place. When we finally reached someone, Josh and I rode up to the cemetery and found the perfect spot for her. She had somewhat pointed it out already, we just had to pinpoint it. I think she would love it.

I feel so bad for her. She doesn't understand why she can't get her thoughts together. It is hard to watch a woman who is SO independent, unable to put her thoughts into words. It is heart breaking to watch such a beautiful person break down like this. I want to help her, but I can't. I can't do a single thing to make it better. I have been very on edge, impatient and snappy. I have been praying for the ability to deal with this situation more gracefully.

When Mallorie, the Hospice nurse came today, she explained some things to us. My aunt had brought to my attention that mom's urine was a brownish color. The next time mom went to the bathroom, I took the liberty to look for myself. She was right. She thought mom was dehydrated and perhaps she needed some fluids. So, I asked Mallorie. She explained that we could take mom to the hospital for fluids because she probably was dehydrated, but if the dying process has already started (and she believes it has), the fluids would make the situation much, much more difficult. Harder for mom, and harder for us to watch. She also predicted that based on her symptoms, my mom has about two weeks left. She told me that often times, patients have a goal. When they reach that goal, they feel they can "let go". Mallorie thinks mom's goal was Mili's birth. When I really think about it, I have to agree. She was fine until that day. The moment she left the hospital, she started declining and she hasn't stopped. It's gotten worse and worse and worse. Mallorie said that she has been fighting so hard so that she could honor her word, and now she is finally "listening to her body". It is unreal to think that my mom fought DEATH.....For ME. It is unreal. And yet, I am not surprised. My mom is woman of her word.

Tomorrow, I will go and pick out her dress, shoes, and hat for her funeral. Then, I will be putting pictures on cds to so that Ronnie can make her slide show. I just want to get it all out of the way, so that when she does pass, I can just focus on my family. She really "softened the blow" of all of this by telling us exactly what she wanted. She has already chosen the funeral home and paid, she  picked out her cemetery and somewhat chose her plot. She chose the songs that will be sang, and just really talked us through this whole thing. What a woman. I am just so proud of her.

I am officially living with my mom. The baby is with me, but the girls will be in and out. I feel, that even though I have been very honest with them through this, they definitely need to be sheltered from this part. It is horrifying even for me as an adult. She did look at Nori yesterday, who had climbed on her bed and was repeating "Gammy I wub you, Gammy I wub you" over and over, and she said "I love you too baby, SOO much". HER words broke my heart. Then, in a bad moment, Neva tried to come in mom's room and I snapped "get out!". She yelled from the hall "I just wanted to love MY GAMMY!!" Then she cried inconsolably. I just didn't want her to see her Gammy like that, but I felt so guilty. All she wanted was a sugar and a hug from one of her favorite people in the world. This is so hard on them. It's hard on us all.

My mom will pass here in the comforts of her own house, more than likely with all of her children present. Earlier, she said "I love all 3 of y'all". When she says that, it lets me know that she isn't completely gone, yet.

Please pray for our family.....

Don't Leave Me Mama

Mom, Nori, Neva and Ronnie were all hanging out at mom's house. Mom was out in the yard playing with the girls. They were sitting in mom's driveway looking for pretty rocks to put in their pockets to give to me later. Mom knows I never find those things until they are in my washer, but it never fails, they will dig in the rocks every time....Mom chased the girls around the house to the swing set, where they argued over who she was going to push. Mom carried on a conversation with them like they were her friends. I know that is why they love her so. Ronnie came walking out the back door and said he was headed to the store. Mom reminded him to get his checkbook. She told him to grab chocolate, Cheetos and candy for the kids. Maybe a little supper too, but not necessarily. Mom looked up and said "Nori, No! No!" because she was following behind Ronnie as he headed to his truck. She was a bit close to the road for comfort. "You have to hold hands!" She said. Nori grabbed Ronnie's hand and he led her to Gammy's loving arms. Mom picked her up and squeezed her tight. Then, with Nori on one hip and Neva holding on to her free hand they all headed inside to set up their pallet for the night. It was going to be great.
At least, that is what I ASSUME happened. That is what I picture happening.

In reality, I sat in the chair and cried as my mom laid on the couch sleeping. As usual, she talked in her sleep.  She mumbled some words that I could make out. "No, no, nori!", "Ronnie's checkbook", "You have to hold hands!" As she spoke, a confused Nori walked up to her several times. She got right in mom's exhausted face and whispered "I wub you Gammy. Pwease wake up". Neva sat to the side staring at her. She seems mad at her, or scared of her.  I can't tell. It just hurts to see her so stand-offish toward someone she adores. I know she is worried about her, because I sometimes catch her rubbing mom's feet or head and she seems lost in thought. To cheer myself up, I tried to see mom's dream. I am pretty sure I got it right. She is happy in her dream. She is the old mom. She is with her grand kids. She is healthy. She is beautiful.

Last week wasn't great for her condition, but she did babysit the girls for me while I was in the hospital. She was well enough to do that. This week? Well, things have definitely taken a turn for the worst. It happened in a split second. Like flipping a switch. I didn't realize it could happen that fast, and I find myself completely unprepared. At first, we thought it was the medicine. So, we attempted to cut back. Unfortunately, she was in so much pain-we couldn't do that. I even phoned the clinic. Not Hospice, but mom's old cancer clinic. They told me exactly what Hospice already had. We have to choose between: mom hurting horribly and being awake, and mom being groggy, sleeping alot--but in less pain. It is a harder choice than you might think. I miss her so much I am physically sick to my stomach. When she wakes up, which is only a few minutes at a time, I try and tell her everything the girls have done or said. I try to fit all of our usual conversation into a 5 minute window. When she falls asleep as I am speaking, I cry into my hands. I want her back so badly.

Yesterday, I had to bathe my mom. It wasn't as bad as you might think. It wasn't as bad as I thought, anyway. The worst part was seeing her body. It was reminiscent of a skeleton with skin on it. My once plump and healthy mom has resorted to skin and bones. As I washed her, my hands rubbed over sharp bones protruding from her body. I wondered how she could find a comfortable position at all.

When she speaks, it is usually slurred and may or may not make sense. I worry that I have had my last coherent conversation with my mom. She is my best friend. I am lost without her. I am so alone. I still have so much to say to her, but I fear she won't really hear it now. I am a wreck. My demeanor has sent Neva on a horrible behavior spree, and poor Nori has regressed in her potty training. Yesterday, they went into mom's room. When I realized they were "missing", I went in there to look for them. They had piled up several pillows on mom as she slept. They said they were "helping her". They just don't understand. Neither do I.

Between yesterday and today, mom has had a ton of visitors. Amber told me that Mom asked "did everyone hear that I was dying or something?". Maybe she really wondered, or perhaps that is one of her inappropriate jokes.... that is so typical of the old mama. Either way, she knows something is up.

Yesterday, while crying on the phone with the hospice nurse, I asked (unsure if I was ready for the answer) "how does this usually play out?" She reluctantly explained to me that most of the time, patients start declining (as mom is doing), then they go to sleep. A coma-like sleep. Sometimes it is a couple of days, sometimes as long as a week, and then they pass. I appreciated her honesty. But as she spoke, I floated outside my body. I looked back at the tear stained face of a stranger. I felt sorry for her. It can't be me. I would never be having this conversation. Especially not about my mama. Bless her heart. She is losing her mom. I will pray for her.

I am hanging in there. Surprisingly, though I have spoken of my numerous tears, I have been so strong. I really have. Not the most patient and attentive mom, but still strong. I have found myself consoling my brothers the last couple of days. Ronnie is a little more in touch with his emotions than Josh. Josh had his first breakdown yesterday. The first one, that I know of, since mom got sick. It makes me feel so wonderful to be able to do this. I want to be there for them. We know we have to stick together through this, and so far so good. Mama would be so proud. SHE made us this way.

She still wakes up some, and we get bits and pieces of her here and there. She sometimes doesn't recognize the kids, or remember their names, but she DOES open those beautiful green eyes and that is enough for me.

I am hurting so much that I can't put it into words, yet I feel completely numb. I miss her. When I see her I want to squeeze her, but we have to be so gentle with her little body. I am so ripped up inside. As I type tonight, I do not find the same comfort or release that my writing usually brings me. Perhaps because this is the first blog post that my mom won't read. She loved reading my thoughts, even when they were dark. I still text her every night, though I know she isn't reading them anymore. Lots of "I love you's" and "I miss you's"...But the last one I sent was simple "Mama don't leave me". I cried as I typed it. I hoped for a response, a reassuring one. But it never came.

My mom is dying. God help me.