taken Monday 2-18-2008About an hour ago, the phone call came in. My mother passed away sometime between 7 and 8 tonight. We went down to the care facility and yep. She’s gone, it wasn’t a bad dream.
I took her in for her dentist appointment this morning. She wasn’t doing well walking, was weak. We had the “if you’d eat, you’d feel better” conversation. At the dentist’s office, she told me “don’t start with the lecture”. The dentist remarked on how, as we get older, the child, who once got the lectures, now lectures the parent. Mom was very uncomfortable there today.
This is what I posted elsewhere this afternoon:
Mom had been doing better, but we realized that she's not ready to go home, most likely never will be.
She's still hiding food or just not eating. She's not walking without me around and our walks have gotten shorter because "I can't do it!"
She's still playing me. According to the people who work there, who see her almost every day, when I'm not around, she doesn't have the problems she has when I'm around. Nice, huh? So, what do you do? But all of that doesn't change the fact that she's not eating. I'm not there when they feed her because I found it extremely aggravating to watch her play with her food as if she was five years old, not 71 years older than that. And I know I can't control that. You know the old adage, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. Same thing with my mom.
We'd planned on getting her into an assisted living facility next month. We found a great one last night, nice big room, private bath, even has a sliding door that opens onto a patio and lawn area (with tables and chairs). Plenty of space for her sofa and her bed in the room (think studio apartment). Ground floor by the dining room. There are 44 rooms there. Tenants can come and go as they please. Two story, there's a smoker's balcony upstairs. We were pretty impressed with it. They said they'd visit mom this afternoon to see if she'd work out there.
This morning, I go in to pick her up for her dental appointment (stupid dentures take forever and a million and one visits) and she wasn't ready when I got there.
.We got her dressed and the jeans I just got her last week, that were a little loose around her middle, were too tight. Her belly is huge (think the Biafra ads from so long ago, of the little kids, skin and bone arms with big bellies). But how could it have gotten this big in this short amount of time, especially since she's not eating? I was frustrated when she starts doing the "I can't do it" when we're walking to the lobby so I can bring the car around.
We finally get her in, but today, she's helpless. She's shaking, she's breathing hard. Now, this may sound heartless, but I know my mother. She works herself into a tizzy. She can talk herself into (and out of) anything. You know when you keep saying 'this or that makes me sick'? Well, if you say it enough, your body starts to believe it. And this is what's happening with my mother. I wasn't very sympathetic at this point.
We made it to the dentist and she just got worse. Got all of the stuff done, made the appointment for next week's fitting (while I was waiting for the date, mom calls me out to the waiting room...'don't make the appointment, I just want to die'...)
We get back into the car, she has to poop. "How long until we go back to the facility?" This is encouraging. All the other visits, she thought I was taking her back to her mobile home. First time she recognized she was going someplace else. We get back, get her to the room. She's shaking like a leaf, can hardly stand up (even with the walker). She's gasping for breath. Scared the employees.
I said "she has to poop". The nurse told one of the other women "I need you to help us" and we all got mom on the toilet. Five minutes later, nothing happened and she went to bed, still shaking and gasping. They started her on oxygen and took a blood gas and blood pressure. Blood pressure and gas were okay. She was hyperventilating. She done a fine job of working herself into a tizzy. With the oxygen, she started to calm down. Heather, the nurse, gave her some Tylenol for her leg pain. Mom said "can I have something for the pain in my legs?" You just got some Tylenol, it takes a while to work.
Meanwhile, the bloated belly has become a concern to Heather and she tried to find out the last time mom had a BM. Nobody knew, but it hasn't been within the past couple of days. So, mom was given a suppository. She actually yelled for me when I was out of sight. I had Tikky call the AL place because I didn't have their phone number with me, to cancel this afternoon's appointment. I called some other places when I got home, but was told that my mom most likely needed a place with a full time nurse available. Because of mom's not eating. Because, you know, mom might need intravenous feeding or tube feeding.
Yeah, right. Mom already said she wants nothing of the sort. I ended up calling the woman who works where mom is now, who has her own place and will have a room available the first of March. Mom would have a private room, a shared bath. Not a lot of people there. I think mom would do better in a quiet environment. And I think she might do a lot lot better without me around, checking on her.
Somewhere in her brain, I think she's doing this because she wants me around. Maybe if I know she's being taken care of and I don't come around so often, she can get better. It's a horrible thing to think, but I think because of me, she's not getting better. Think of how she is when I'm not around. She's better. Tommy, one of the male attendants, who's worked around the elderly for years, told me flat out today "she's trying to make you feel guilty and she's succeeding; don't let her do that to you, she'll be okay."
So, DH and I are going to check out this other place tomorrow and I'll start making arrangements for her to have cable and a telephone. And have to see about furniture. The nice thing is it isn't really far away, but it's far enough that I won't be feeling the need to see her everyday. And if she has her own phone, I can call her, which has always been best for us. I hate this.
I guess mom was right. This past week, I found out she hadn’t been eating anything. It was her way of walking out into the desert to die.
We had made amends this past few months. These past few days, she had been sleeping more. I mentioned this to Brian the other day. Yesterday, I sat by her and watched as she closed her eyes. She opened them and said “what about….” I don’t remember what, but I told her she didn’t have to worry anymore, that was my job. For her to just relax. She said something else, then said “you’re the other half of my brain.” Then she added “the half that works”.
Goodbye, Mom. You win this round. But I’ll see you again someday and you can count on that. Take care of all those kitties up there and give them all a big hug from me. And give my love to dad.
Godspeed, Violet Mary Bolger James.
I loved you very much, old woman. You’re the reason I am who I am today. I love you, always, and I’ll miss you, very, very much.
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