I’ll preface this post with a request for your indulgence, as well as your thoughts, prayers or whatever your means of spiritual support may be.
I think I mentioned that on January 10th my Mom entered into a Hospice program. This was during her second hospitalization in less than a month for heart failure.
While most certainly this was not an easy decision, I have no qualms that it was the right decision.
She had actually asked that we talk with her internist PCP concerning Hospice ~ 18 months ago – so she realized even back then that her time on this earth was coming to a close.
Her PCP wisely told her back then that he could not sign the Certificate because she did not meet the necessary criteria to be admitted to a Hospice program. Of course, I was much relived. She took it with her usual equanimity. (She’s always been solid as a rock – me … not so much.)
I’m blessed that SHE has been the one who has said “It’s time for me to move to Assisted Living” – “It’s time that I start using the wheelchair for long the long distance to the dining room rather than my walker” – “It’s time to revisit that talk with my PCP again about Hospice Care”
When someone who is first diagnosed with congestive heart failure at 101 y/o, the writing on the wall is pretty clear.
So with her second admission in less than a month in January, we again re-visited the subject with both her cardiologist and internist. This time there was no hesitation that this was the right (and inevitable) decision.
But, sadly, it doesn’t make it any easier.
I fully admit that I’m the one having a much more difficult time with her “Final Journey” than she is. (And I am grateful she’s doing much better!). Maybe most people will be fortunate enough to recognize that their time here is coming to an end. I certainly hope I do.
The real difficulty for me is the fact that she lives 400 miles away … AND my cat.
I know I have shared with you that my shelter cat is NOT a friendly critter. And because of that, the staff at Mom’s Assisted Living is not fond of him … AT ALL!
(I will note that while Nike and I have been up visiting, there have been at least three different Hospice nurses, the Hospice Chaplain, the Hospice Social Worker and Mom’s Pastor who’ve come to visit. Each one has spent over 30 minutes with Mom, me and the cat – and not one of them has ever had a problem with Nike.)
But as I’ve tried to explain to them (especially as a Pediatrician), it’s like having a child with disabilities or other medical issues – you don’t just get rid of them & ask for exchange. You play the cards you’re dealt.
But Mom likes the cat and asks that I bring him along. That’s a request I simply cannot refuse.
But it’s made trips up to Mom’s very stressful in and of itself. That’s now compounded by Mom being in Hospice. Hopefully the facility and I have worked out a program that will prevent any further problems involving the cat – both on Nike’s part AND on the staff’s part. (Won’t go into the details, but some on the staff have treated the cat less than kindly.)
At any rate, I’ll try, as best I can, to continue with the “Friday Fun”. But hope you will understand if I miss a few entries when I’m just not feeling up to it – like today.
As most of you probably know from your own personal experiences, this is just not an easy time for me.
12 Responses to “Friday – Wish It Were More Fun …”
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Cross posted to Care2 HERE
Dear Nameless. You do what you need to do for you. Lynn and TC have known you far longer than I have, but I haven’t been blogging alongside you for a couple of years without coming to learn how considerate, conscientious, dependable, and loving you are. I have confidence that your heart will handle it right. Not without pain and grief, but right. Do remember that what grieving you do is being done for you, and is helping you. Don’t let social expectations from others guilt trip you into skimping on it.
And whatever you can do for Nike (since I don’t know whether a skritch behind the ears or a hug or a cuddle are possible), do it an extra time for me.
We are here for you.
I can’t claim to understand entirely, Joanne, but I know the feeling of dealing with an aging parent. My mother had to be moved into assisted living a few years ago. Two weeks ago she passed, thankfully in her sleep. She was a vivacious woman, full of beans until the final two years of her life. It was just a few months ago that she started needing a wheelchair to get around. The end is never easy, even when you expect it.
While I realize that it’s now become almost trite to say “My thoughts and prayers are with you” – I hope you will believe when I say:
“My thoughts and prayers are with you in this, your time of sorrow.”
Freya, I am so sorry to hear about your mum’s passing just 2 weeks ago. I drew some solace knowing my mum was no longer suffering from the physical pain and the indignities brought on by dementia. I hope you too can find solace.
Peace be with you, and with your mum. My thoughts and prayers are with you.
Freya, I’m so sorry. Thank you for reaching out to Nameless.
Don’t want to go into details, but I understand exactly how you feel. Take whatever time you need for yourself. She is what matters.
Nameless: My sincerest expressions of concern, and comfort, to you, during this time.
You are a loving, caring Son. YOU are worth every amount of time that you need.
Nameless, I can certainly appreciate where you are now having been there myself just a year ago. Sunday 04 February 2017 was the day my mum died. I spent every day with her by her bedside, talking to her and holding her hands. Even though she was sleeping or in a light coma, I know she was aware of my presence. I would not trade that time I had with her for all the tea in China.
You should and must do what is right for you, and for your mum . . . and of course Nike. Isn’t it too bad that life does not come with an owner’s manual to guide us in difficult times. Being 400 miles away is not easy. It is important that you look after you. You are a loving and compassionate son, and person. Please show some of that love and compassion to yourself. I did not do that well so I speak from experience.
BTW, tell the hospice staff for me, to get stuffed! Nike stays!!!
The following is a poem that helps me. If the word “Lord” is not in your lexicon, then substitute your higher power.
Peace be with you and your mum, my dear friend . . . and of course Nike. Please give your mum and yourself big Canuck hugs from me. And give Nike lots of scritches. If you need to talk, you know where I am.
Just to be clear – the Hospice staff has been WONDERFUL!
It’s the Assisted Living staff, where she’s lived for over three years, that has caused issues.
Saying goodbye to a dearly loved is always very hard, Nameless, so you should allow yourself all the time you need to do just that: being with your Mom as much as possible in her final days. It may draw all the energy out of you now, traveling those 400 miles time and time again, trying to find Nike and put him in his carrier each trip, worrying when you’re not there…But when you look back on it some time not to soon in the future, you’ll be happy that you had that time with her, that you made her happy by being there, that you eased her passing and that you were so fortunate to say goodbye after telling her all those things you wanted to tell her and she needed to hear from you in person.
So never apologize for not writing at all or for not writing something funny; there is absolutely no need.
Give your Mom a kiss for me and Nike some extra time of stroking; I share your point of view on both of them. And a virtual kiss for you, Nameless, a son any mother would wish.
Nameless, my friend, you know that you continue in my thoughts and prayers. You don’r worry about this site. You have my telephone number if I may be of help in any way. {{{HUG}}}