I am sitting over at my parents house right now. My sisters, Julie, Emily, and Britta, and 3 of Britta's kids, stayed with her for a long time before my dad wanted to go to bed. We sang...a sort of cruel torture, having a hard time keeping a straight face sitting right next to my nephew. I think my mom would have been laughing with us if she could.
She has gone 6 days without any water or food except for a couple syringes full of ensure a couple days ago. She no longer talks and only every once in a while opens her eyes, but I don't think she is seeing anything. Her look is blank. I am planning to stay here for a good portion of the night because looking at her she seems different to me today. He skin is pale and waxy. Her cheeks are cold now. Her breathing is much more labored now. The nurses are baffled. They have never had a patient all over the place. One day she is so close to death. You take a breath and prepare for the end, then you wake up the next day, call over to dads to ask how she is doing and her oxygen saturation is up with no explanation. It is a strange limbo between grieving and numbness. Sadly you get used to seeing your mom unresponsive and struggling to breath. Most of the time you can handle it and then you are thrust back into reality. I don't know how my mom feels about my crying. I hope she isn't unsettled by it. I love her. I think this is really the end now. The hospice nurse said she had less than 24 hours left. That is why I am sitting here blogging while I wait for news when I should be catching up on sleep. Feels strange waiting. I have a lot of support here. Not many people have as many people all going though the same thing. Some can spend more time than others. I think everyone is dealing with it differently, but it is nice to have someone that understands. I am too young to loose my mom. I am sorry if none of this makes sense. My sister reading over my shoulder has already pointed out lots of mistakes, but I am too tired to care.