Christine and I went back to the hospital for a bit but the morning had taken a lot out of Mom and by the time rest period came around we were looking for lunch so we stepped out. Brenda called to see if we were interested in coming over for home made pizza (uh, y'think?) and we went right over. I forgot to bring Bailey a Timbit again, but she seemed only a little disappointed by it. They also invited us over for dinner Tuesday evening and we said we'd be over, then went back to the hospital for the afternoon.
That's when I got put to the test and I'm pretty sure I failed miserably. We stayed until about 5:30pm when Janet came by to sit with Mom for the evening. I reached over to wake her a bit and let her know we were going out and we would probably pop by later but I couldn't get any reaction out of her at all. I could clearly see her pulse in her neck and I could hear her breathing fine but even when I called her name pretty loudly she opened her right eye once -- there was nothing but white there -- and then nothing. I tried a few times and did my best to remember what else I had learnt in my first aid courses but all I could think is that breathing and circulation seemed okay but she was unresponsive. I sat there quietly for a long time, maybe twenty minutes, certainly more than fifteen, and there was no change but I was getting more and more alarmed.
I can look back on this now and relate it pretty calmly but at the time I was sitting at the bed-side crying and thinking I need to get it together because if she could still hear me I'd only be upsetting her more and I didn't want to do that. I said a few things to her that I needed her to hear, nothing she hadn't heard before but stuff that I think bears repeating, and then Christine came back in the room. Her and Janet had left me at some point to give me some privacy. I told her to tell Janet what I had seen and to bring her back in then I sent a text message to Trish that I'm sure didn't help at all. Started with 'scared' and tried to explain, without sounding panicked, what was going on. Janet came in and I called Trish after she asked me to and while we were on the phone Janet started doing all of the things I should have been doing if I'd remembered my training. Call her name. No response. Ask her to squeeze your finger. Success. Ask if she could open her eyes. No luck there, but at least we've got something.
I sent someone, Christine, I think, to ask the nurses to bring a cot in because I was going to spend the night here and then, in a turn of events I still can't really imagine, Steve's mother came into the room. She is a nurse, working in the hospital and formerly in this unit, so when she came in and heard what had been going on she first did what she could to calm me down, then went off to talk to the primary nurse looking after Mom at that time and get a feel for the situation and whether they thought it was that time yet. She came back with news that would otherwise have probably been pretty bad but at that moment made me feel immeasurably better. Based on what they had been seeing, their feeling was that it wasn't time yet and probably wouldn't be for a while yet. How long? Maybe the end of the week, which as we get closer and closer to it seems something like a moving date to me, but maybe that's just the optimism I try to keep in check most of the time.
Anyway, we got through that and by about 7:30pm we finally left the hospital. Steve's mom also told me I could ask the night nurse her opinion after she finished her rounds, probably about 9:00pm or so, so we zipped over to Steve and Brenda's place, ate then left back for the hospital pretty much right away. The night shift confirmed the same feeling, that it wasn't time yet and they took my cell and Gregory's number to call if anything changed.
I had planned to try to write up all of this when we went back to Steve and Brenda's place but by the time I got there I was completely exhausted. I felt like I'd been awake for the better part of a week and was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
Wednesday morning was much better. Our new routine seems to be get up, Christine drops me off at the hospital while she goes to get the essentials (coffee, muffin) and then comes back. I missed Monica by a handful of minutes, but I really wanted to talk to Dr. Kelly that morning more. The biggest change, though, was that when I came in Mom was awake and aware and we chatted for a bit, maybe half an hour. It was really good.
She faded fast, though, and before long it was just Christine and I sitting quietly in the room. When Dr. Kelly showed up, though, we got to talk a bit more about Mom's current state and then he said something to me that makes me feel like we are probably leaving this place in a better state than we found it. He said that based on the little bit of success we had with internet in Mom's room and letting her talk to Trish and her grandchildren, they're going to be bringing internet into each of the rooms from now on so patients can hopefully communicate with family members and loved ones that cannot be here with them. He didn't frame it in the context of "we think we should do this and we're going to discuss it" either, he said it like it's a done deal and now it's just a matter of them running the cable and drafting the IT policy. It's a small thing, for sure, but I feel like we've done something here that will make this time a little easier for those people coming after us. I don't want to sound like this is something I did, Rev. Paul did all the hard work of arranging for the cable and talking to the IT staff, all I did was grab a webcam, chose Skype from the list of available options, and coordinate with Jim, but the end result is we all did this and it's something that will be available to all patients here soon.
What else about yesterday? I'm forgetting stuff, I know, but that was the second biggest thing. The biggest was when I called Trish and she told me something Mom had said to her when they were talking in private. She told me that Mom had told her about a dream she had where the three of us were together and outside and she was healthy and happy to have her children together with her. She told me that she hopes Mom keeps having dreams like that and so do I.
The day ended with a bit of much needed humour, I again got to see Mom smile which made me feel great at the same time that I was feeling terrible for what I had done.
It was around quarter past eight, Gregory and Zita had just left and I had just finished the post from last night. I was packing up and, as I always was told, I was going to give Mom a kiss and let her know I was going home for the night. Well, I was leaning over her and as my beard brushed her cheek she flinched and jumped away and stared up at me with total confusion. I apologized over and over and said I just wanted to give her a kiss goodnight and then she said something that made Christine laugh out loud, probably enough for the nurses to hear in the hallway. She said "it's your beard, I thought it was a mouse or something crawling on my cheek!" I felt so bad, but I couldn't help laughing too. She took a little while to calm down and when the nurses came in she asked them for a bath -- she had been thinking about a bath before bed time all day, so at least something kind of good came of it -- and we stayed until they came to get her, but I still think she was a little rattled by the possibility of a mouse in bed with her when we left.
Now Christine's taken to calling it my mouse instead of my beard. That'll probably stick for a long time.
I skipped over a part of Tuesday afternoon because I wanted to talk about what happened first, then come back to a very bright moment in an otherwise pretty grey day. When we got back from lunch mom's friend Loretta was visiting with her. She's a little bit older than I remember her from when they were working at Lofood on Water Street in the 1980s, but she still looks just incredible. Unlike most of us who have aged twenty-some years since then, I think she's aged about five, certainly less than ten, and I'd recognize her in an instant.
Now that I've been away for a while and I'm reconnecting with so many people who were there while I was growing up, I'm seeing where I've picked up a lot of my habits and mannerisms. I'm sure I've learnt a lot of how to tell a story from Kenny, my cousin's husband. I knew all along that I first started learning the value of a wicked sense of humour from Loretta. I remember one time while I was visiting Mom at work talking with her in the break room and she told me how she felt so bad because she'd made her niece and nephew cry. How did she do this? They'd been talking about everything they were going to get for Christmas and she said something like, "You haven't heard? Christmas is cancelled this year, Santa Claus got hit by a train." Yes she felt horrible about the way she made them cry, but we also got a good laugh about it. Probably means both of us are a little bit evil, but I'm sure that's where I learnt to embrace it.
It was really good to see Loretta again. She visited for quite a while, talking to Mom when she seemed awake, either quietly sitting with us or chatting a little when she wasn't. She told us about the friend she's been helping out, we talked about old times, Christine and her swapped stories about life in Belleville, it would have been a lot like any regular visit if we had been in a different place for a different reason. When she left the last thing she said to me was to be strong, that I'd get through it and that I should call her if I needed her for anything.
Love the humorous title of your last post.
ReplyDeleteI assume from what I read in your blog that it won't be long before your mom slip into a coma like my mom did, which is so unfortunate.
At the hospital, we were told that even though a person is in a coma, the last thing to go is the hearing. We talked to mom even when she was in a coma. So go ahead and talk to your mom even though she doesn't answer sometimes. She may still hear you. We were also told to not to be afraid of holding her hand.
I feel pretty helpless here in Fredericton to be of some comfort at this trying time in your life.
Prayers for courage and strength,
Love, Julia
When my dad was in a coma we talked to him and my step-mother held his hand almost the entire time. They suggested that we share our favourite memories that included him. So if you don't really know what to say, try some of your memories from growing up.
ReplyDeleteI also wish I could be of more comfort to you at this difficult time.
Hugs to you and Christine.
Kathryne