Monday, February 15, 2010

Empty Vessel

Dear Lois,

My bud Frederick in room 104 is still here, unfortunately the woman in 103 and the one in 107 didn’t make it through the night. It seems like the occupants on this wing are departing quickly. Which leads me into the conversation I had with Dr. Ferguson this morning.

After coming back in to check on Mazha after the weekend, she asked me if I could step outside of the room… so with Kensington in tow, we stepped into the hallway.

“I want to apologize if I gave you any false hopes last week when I said that I thought she had short months left. It was very hard for me to give an answer with only seeing your mother for two days… she is showing signs that she’s reaching her final days. I would be very surprised if she is still here in a week. Her lucidness is quickly fading. If there is anyone that would like to see her and spend time with her, it really should be done in the next three days… after that, she’s not going to know, or fully comprehend, them being here. I’m so sorry. If you would like, I could talk to your mom, and apologize. I just couldn’t tell how fast this disease was progressing without seeing her, and her patterns over a span of time. She has increased respiratory congestion and she’s starting to have fluid buildup in lungs, as well as a decrease in urine output. I want to reduce the amount of food we’re giving her, because her stomach is elongated, and I want to work on adjusting her pain meds. [holding back tears] I know this hurts. I know you’re trying to stay strong… but it’s okay to feel pain. Again. I am so sorry.”

It took everything in me to pick up the phone and relay the information to Chris. He’s now making arrangements to be here tomorrow. I called Simone and told her the same. Aunt Paulette arrived and I gave her the news… the hardest was telling dad. We all knew that this day would come, and prolonging it seems selfish, if not on our end, on Mazha’s. This isn’t the woman we know and love. While there are brief moments of her being alert and talking (which gives us hope that she will be here longer), the majority of the day she is an empty vessel plugged into a ventilator.


   

8 comments:

feefifoto said...

I'm so sad for you and your family.

C.I.W. said...

There aren't words that can express the sorrow that I feel for you right now. Even with the job I have loss NEVER EVER gets easier.

I lost my partner, she was in hospice at the end, and the only thing that I could at all bring myself to be okay with was that her passing was peaceful because of the care she was receiving.
Your mom is surrounded by angels here on earth (the hospice workers) ... she is so blessed to have her family around her...

You will all be in my prayers. I know that so many people say that.. "you will be in my thoughts and prayers" please know.. that you ARE... that your mom is.. that your family is..

*GREAT BIG HUGS*
Casey

Anonymous said...

Dear Paul,

I am glad that I am able to bring you comfort. I wanted to pass on the comfort which I received from God throughout my lifetime. Life is filled with pain, life, death,joy, suffering, surprise, and a whole host of other things. One thing I learned was that God does not change through circumstances and emotions. Each stitch in the quilt represents each tear that I have shed over my lifetime. Tears of sorrow and tears of joy. As you wrap yourself in me, you are wrapping yourself in the comfort that God had given me. Count the stitches...The Bible says that God collects and saves our tears in jars...how precious! May you continue to fine comfort in my quilt and pass it, along with your tears, to someone who needs that same comfort.

With love,
Lois

Jen said...

I am so sorry for you and your family. This is such a difficult time. Thoughts and prayers and hugs.

Johnny and Darren said...

This is terribly sad news for you all.

We are thinking of you all.

BellaDaddy said...

We are thinking of you and sending hugz your way.

Sip said...

I am so sorry that you are hurting so much. Six years ago we went through something similar when my mother was in hospice care after her breast cancer spread all over. Seeing her go through it was so painful for our family. Even though it is so painful to see, you are doing the right thing by being there at this time. My biggest regret is that I was not able to make it home before my mother passed. My heart still aches whenever I think that I was not there to say my final goodbyes. Everyone grieves differently so do and/or say whatever brings you comfort. Family support and love is what gets you through it so hold on to each other. Take care.

Sephysmomma said...

I am so sorry and I know how hard this is for you. I am saying a special prayer for you tonight. I have been in your shoes when my Grandma Rose passed away in 2000. I was there with her when she took her last breath and holding her hand. She was my guardian, my mom. When I read this tears came and it made me flash back to that time when this happened to me. Hold that baby tight and she will be your rock to get you through this. My little girl was Kenington's age when she passed and she got me through it all. I will keep you and your family in my heart and prayers.

~Cherees