Mom's breathing is getting more
and more shallow but it is still steady. Aunt Jeanette relieves me at 8:00a and stressing
about work, I decide to try to go in for a few hours as I'm certain the piles on
my desk are mounting.
I arrive at work and, as suspected, there are plenty of new piles of work and sticky notes to keep me busy and, to my surprise, I am able to concentrate and hurriedly get quite a bit accomplished. I leave for a short break at 1:30 to get Roy to physical therapy (for his knee pain from surgery). He will be ready for pick-up at 3:00p and I'll leave work for the day then and return to the hospital again to sit with mom. At about 2:35p I get a call; it's Erica and she explains that the mucus in mom's throat has built up again and that she is rattling a lot. They had requested the respiratory therapist suction her throat again but were informed this time that because mom's breathing is so shallow, she may not survive a suctioning; consequently, they are calling me to be there for the event, just in case. In a panic, I can't think, I just know I have to get to the hospital immediately. On my way, I call Aaron to let him know what Brenda and Erica are planning and to ask him to have Jr. pick up his dad. He decides to come as well so I wait for Aaron and Candice in the lobby for a while as I'd like to calm myself and gather my thoughts. Is it really necessary to suction her if it could risk an early termination? How can the procedure be approved by medical personnel if the risk is so high? How is this any different than aided suicide? I need to hear the "rattle" for myself.
I go up to the room and sit - she's quiet. I wait - she's still quiet. Erica and Brenda explain that they feel a little silly now as she has become so quiet. I'm not amused. They seem to jump to medicate or "treat" mom sometimes appearing to be more interested in calming themselves. Aaron and Candice come up and sit and I explain that mom has quieted so we are holding off for now.
Erica exits and I follow her as I'm not sure who she's going to talk to and give instruction to - she turns to explain that she's only looking for the respiratory therapist, Cindy, to clear something personal with her. Cindy rounds the corner and Erica begins talking with her about her mental stability as to how she can handle performing a procedure that could result in such dire consequences. Cindy explains it part of her job and they go back and forth for a while. Once their discussion is completed, I step in with my questions. I'd like Brenda present and call her to join us. After getting a few answers from Cindy, I am still unsure that this procedure is necessary at all at this point. Erica, Brenda, and I round the corner to the waiting area to discuss the situation further. They agree that we will not do any suctioning for now and I explain that I'm starved and haven't eaten. They place their orders for lunch with me and I let Aaron and Candice know the plan as well. Aaron wants to sit a while at the hospital with mom.
Roy and I go eat at Las Palmas; I drop off Roy at home and then bring the food plates to my sisters. Aaron is gone by now. We sit and talk a while. I watch mom breath and notice how everyday she seems closer and closer to Heaven. She has a white towel wrapped around her head and neck as the nurses had cleaned her up earlier and Erica's kids had stopped by for a brief visit. Her head is tilted to her right and her body is tight. Her face is so thin she hardly looks like herself at all.
A little more than an hour passes and mom is drooling. I rise to clean her up and Erica says, "I let you take care of this one." I wipe the drool which has a green tinge and when I do, much more spills from her mouth. It seems to startle Erica and she jumps up to retrieve the nurse or Brenda. I peer into mom's mouth and note a green pool of mucus and spit has formed in the side of her mouth. I mentally note that the suction is going to occur as it has worked its way up in her throat and is now spilling from her mouth. I step outside to call Aaron with this information. He doesn't say whether he is coming or not. Cindy enters the room and suctions her mouth, and then attaches a tube to the suction unit for suction her throat. Erica has decided that it is easier to suction through the nose as this is what she has witnessed. I, however, have witnessed both and it appears to me that either is easy when mom is knocked out enough on drugs and either is difficult when she is not. No time for argument, the nurse begins. I am on mom's left, Erica sits on her right, and Brenda is beside me. Mom struggles. The suction is taking her breath away and her face turns a beet red. Mom's head nods up and down as if she is struggling to swallow or catch her breath. The suction seems to take forever and I become quite sure that mom will not survive it. Once over, mom seems to breathe with her throat but her chest isn't moving - her lungs don't appear to fill with air and we wait. Brenda and Erica keep telling her to go into the Light, that it's okay to go to Heaven now. We are all crying and I'm listening to them encourage her to "let go". I can't cry with my sisters so I begin deep breaths and talking myself into embracing this as the spiritual experience it should be. Her pulse is noticeable beating quite quickly in her neck and she continues to gasp for breath. Finally, she seems to be gasping regularly. The suction has certainly taken its toll on her and likely shortened the life span but probably only by hours. I call Aaron again to let him know that mom "survived" the suctioning stating, "Her body is still here, she is breathing, and her heart is still beating." He is crying and it tears me up inside. I wish I could hold him, but send Candice a text telling her to take care of him.
I arrive at work and, as suspected, there are plenty of new piles of work and sticky notes to keep me busy and, to my surprise, I am able to concentrate and hurriedly get quite a bit accomplished. I leave for a short break at 1:30 to get Roy to physical therapy (for his knee pain from surgery). He will be ready for pick-up at 3:00p and I'll leave work for the day then and return to the hospital again to sit with mom. At about 2:35p I get a call; it's Erica and she explains that the mucus in mom's throat has built up again and that she is rattling a lot. They had requested the respiratory therapist suction her throat again but were informed this time that because mom's breathing is so shallow, she may not survive a suctioning; consequently, they are calling me to be there for the event, just in case. In a panic, I can't think, I just know I have to get to the hospital immediately. On my way, I call Aaron to let him know what Brenda and Erica are planning and to ask him to have Jr. pick up his dad. He decides to come as well so I wait for Aaron and Candice in the lobby for a while as I'd like to calm myself and gather my thoughts. Is it really necessary to suction her if it could risk an early termination? How can the procedure be approved by medical personnel if the risk is so high? How is this any different than aided suicide? I need to hear the "rattle" for myself.
I go up to the room and sit - she's quiet. I wait - she's still quiet. Erica and Brenda explain that they feel a little silly now as she has become so quiet. I'm not amused. They seem to jump to medicate or "treat" mom sometimes appearing to be more interested in calming themselves. Aaron and Candice come up and sit and I explain that mom has quieted so we are holding off for now.
Erica exits and I follow her as I'm not sure who she's going to talk to and give instruction to - she turns to explain that she's only looking for the respiratory therapist, Cindy, to clear something personal with her. Cindy rounds the corner and Erica begins talking with her about her mental stability as to how she can handle performing a procedure that could result in such dire consequences. Cindy explains it part of her job and they go back and forth for a while. Once their discussion is completed, I step in with my questions. I'd like Brenda present and call her to join us. After getting a few answers from Cindy, I am still unsure that this procedure is necessary at all at this point. Erica, Brenda, and I round the corner to the waiting area to discuss the situation further. They agree that we will not do any suctioning for now and I explain that I'm starved and haven't eaten. They place their orders for lunch with me and I let Aaron and Candice know the plan as well. Aaron wants to sit a while at the hospital with mom.
Roy and I go eat at Las Palmas; I drop off Roy at home and then bring the food plates to my sisters. Aaron is gone by now. We sit and talk a while. I watch mom breath and notice how everyday she seems closer and closer to Heaven. She has a white towel wrapped around her head and neck as the nurses had cleaned her up earlier and Erica's kids had stopped by for a brief visit. Her head is tilted to her right and her body is tight. Her face is so thin she hardly looks like herself at all.
A little more than an hour passes and mom is drooling. I rise to clean her up and Erica says, "I let you take care of this one." I wipe the drool which has a green tinge and when I do, much more spills from her mouth. It seems to startle Erica and she jumps up to retrieve the nurse or Brenda. I peer into mom's mouth and note a green pool of mucus and spit has formed in the side of her mouth. I mentally note that the suction is going to occur as it has worked its way up in her throat and is now spilling from her mouth. I step outside to call Aaron with this information. He doesn't say whether he is coming or not. Cindy enters the room and suctions her mouth, and then attaches a tube to the suction unit for suction her throat. Erica has decided that it is easier to suction through the nose as this is what she has witnessed. I, however, have witnessed both and it appears to me that either is easy when mom is knocked out enough on drugs and either is difficult when she is not. No time for argument, the nurse begins. I am on mom's left, Erica sits on her right, and Brenda is beside me. Mom struggles. The suction is taking her breath away and her face turns a beet red. Mom's head nods up and down as if she is struggling to swallow or catch her breath. The suction seems to take forever and I become quite sure that mom will not survive it. Once over, mom seems to breathe with her throat but her chest isn't moving - her lungs don't appear to fill with air and we wait. Brenda and Erica keep telling her to go into the Light, that it's okay to go to Heaven now. We are all crying and I'm listening to them encourage her to "let go". I can't cry with my sisters so I begin deep breaths and talking myself into embracing this as the spiritual experience it should be. Her pulse is noticeable beating quite quickly in her neck and she continues to gasp for breath. Finally, she seems to be gasping regularly. The suction has certainly taken its toll on her and likely shortened the life span but probably only by hours. I call Aaron again to let him know that mom "survived" the suctioning stating, "Her body is still here, she is breathing, and her heart is still beating." He is crying and it tears me up inside. I wish I could hold him, but send Candice a text telling her to take care of him.
Again, we sit. Erica, stressed that mom is stressed, wants to call for a shot of Ativan. I veto. "I don't think she's stressed" I say. She responds that she feels mom looks stressed. I say, "she looks like she's dying." I feel, with as shallow as mom's breath is, and as weak as she appears to be (so close to death), that the Ativan would speed her death as well. That being said, I realize that the medical staff might veto the shot as well if this is the case, but they didn't veto the suctioning even though they were well aware that it could likely end her life to do so. Erica, frustrated, requests that Brenda turn up the music so that she won't have to listen to mom's raspy breathing.
Erica calls Aunt Jeanette quite and deep voice states simply, "It's time" and it reminds me of something out of a movie. Apparently Aunt Jeanette hung up on her as Erica seemed as though she'd lost her. She calls Aunt Carolyn who explains that she can't come to the hospital to witness mom's passing - it's just too hard for her. Aunt Jeanette races to the hospital, seats herself on mom's left and clutches her hand. Brenda is seated just behind her, Erica is kneeling on the floor holding mom's right hand, and I am seated in a chair in the corner praying.
Erica calls Aunt Jeanette quite and deep voice states simply, "It's time" and it reminds me of something out of a movie. Apparently Aunt Jeanette hung up on her as Erica seemed as though she'd lost her. She calls Aunt Carolyn who explains that she can't come to the hospital to witness mom's passing - it's just too hard for her. Aunt Jeanette races to the hospital, seats herself on mom's left and clutches her hand. Brenda is seated just behind her, Erica is kneeling on the floor holding mom's right hand, and I am seated in a chair in the corner praying.
Mom has "developed"
Cheyne-Stokes now and her breaths are literally about 10 slow seconds apart. With
each inhale we stare intensely waiting for the next. Erica seems to jump in surprise with each new breath now. And,
at 7:54 p.m. on May 22, 2013 it is apparent that there will not be another breath.
She's gone.
She's gone.
Brenda jumps up and runs from
the room to alert the nurse who follows her back in. He listens for a heartbeat
or any other sign of life. He straightens and apologizes. Erica is sobbing and Brenda
hugs her. I hug Aunt Jeanette and then she instructs me to join my sisters. I hug
Erica, hug Brenda. The nurses re-enter to
turn off the morphine drip. Brenda asks, "What next?" The nurses will
prep mom for pick-up and the nursing home will send someone to get her.
Aunt Jeanette leaves. Kaitlyn
stops by to help Brenda with the stereo they had purchased to use in the hospital
room. We gather other things and...
leave.
leave.
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