October 5, 2009

Mom isn't going to sit up in bed today like I thought, and hoped, yesterday.  We are nearing the end.

She awoke at 1:00 a.m. and said she had pain in her back, and Krista and I thought we should give her Morphine to make her comfortable.  I had to call the nurse-on-call, Cindy, to understand the correct amount to dispense.  I gave it to her and the rest of the night she spent sleeping, or being nauseated.  She was very upset that I had given her the Morphine and that it was making her sick to her stomach.  She was upset with me, and with the medicine. 

At 8:30 a.m. she once again felt like she was going to vomit, and she did.  It was clear, yet gray in color with specks in it.  I called Hospice and said we need someone to come right away.  Angel Cindy came and administered Haldol through her thigh for the nausea.  Our other angel, Lisa, came shortly after Cindy got here and continued Mom's treatment.  She administered Morphine through her other thigh.  We had noticed some dark spots on Mom's right foot and Lisa confirmed that was mottling.  Her eyes are sunken and dark.  It breaks our hearts to see her like this.  Now she is only waking when she feels like she is going to vomit.

I called Father Dinovo and he'll be here at 2:00 to administer Last Rites.  That's going to be tough.  I remember when he came to the hospital when Dad had his aneurysm, and I realized what he was doing.  It was so sad.  It's like putting the period at the end of the sentence.

Lisa came back to be with us and watch over Mom and gave her more anti-nausea medicine.  She suggested Tina come home now to be with Grandma before she dies.  Lisa told us if Mom vomited again to call her right away.  She wasn't gone long until we had to call her back.  She came with some different anti-nausea medicine.

Father Dinovo came (3:30 p.m.) and when Mom saw him come in, she said, "I know the end is near.  I'm going to take it like a man."  It was really hard for Kathy, Krista and me to hear that and to see Father perform the Last Rites.  A touching, yet painful moment.

As soon as Father finished, Mom got sick again and vomited more than she had before.  Lisa helped her by giving her more Haldol, and Emetrol by mouth.  She is resting peacefully now (4:15 p.m.)

Jeff brought us our favorite macaroni salad, jello and crescent rolls that Aunt Janet made and that was our supper.  We appreciated it!

Aunt Ruth Ann and Uncle Joe came to see Mom.  She looks so pitifully, painfully ill.  When Mom saw them, she said, "I guess the word has spread."  I reminded her that they've come often to see her.  I know it was hard for Uncle Joe, especially, to see her like that.  I saw that it was difficult for him to look at her, but when he was on the front porch, I watched him look at her through the window.  It reminded me of when my grandpa was dying, with Hospice and his children at his side, I just couldn't go in, but I went to the window alone and watched and wept.

Aunt Janet and Annette came in and seeing Mom as she is is such a shock to everyone.  She is changing daily.  Her pallor, the thinness of her face, her sunken eyes, and of course, her beautiful hair has always been perfect is mussed up by the cool clothes we've been putting on her forehead during her bouts with nausea.  When Aunt Janet was leaving and kissed Mom and told her she loved her, Mom looked at her and said, "I'll pray for you from heaven."  That was so hard for Aunt Janet to hear.
Mom's been fighting nausea all afternoon and evening.  Sometimes it's the dry heaves, but she's also had dark watery, as she has always called it...upchuck.

As I sat with her she said she was tired of all of this.  I asked her if she's ready to go be with Dad.  She opened her little eyes and looked at me and said, "Why?  Are you going to shoot me?" and then grinned that little crooked smile!  We all had such a good laugh over that!

Max and Matthew came this evening and both struggled when they saw 'Grandma'.  It's a lot for a young person to grasp and I think it's worse because she has declined so rapidly that everytime they see her, she looks different and much worse.  It's hard for even me to believe, grasp and accept this transformation, and I've been with her every day since her July 7 diagnosis.  We tried to comfort them as much as we could.

About 11:30 p.m. I called Jayme and asked if there was something we could do to help with the nausea and also settle her a little more.  She changed the medicine dosage and as they always do, she offered to come in.  I told her I thought we were okay for the time being.

Krista, Tina and I slept in the living room with her.  She would still wake up and say 'pan' which was our signal that she might be ready to vomit.  As the night went on, she said it less and less, and never 'upchucked' again.