Mom is Gone - 2024 10 04

Mom passed away at 4:03 pm on October 4, 2024. She was 93 years old, less than one month to her 94th birthday, which would have been on November 1.

On Thursday, the day before, the Palliative Nurse came to see how we were doing. My sister had been here for a couple of nights to give me respite from overseeing the 24/7 emergency long term caregiving schedule that had been implemented on Tuesday, September 24.

My sister was also here on that Tuesday, when we realized we could no longer care for Mom on our own at home. Mom was too weak to hold her weight to stand up to use the commode, and I was not strong enough to hold her weight for her. 

Mom had come down with a suspected stomach flu on September 4, but it is hard to tell exactly when the flu started. We had been dealing with bowel emergencies before that. We implemented the dietary protocol to deal with diahrrea and intestinal inflammation, because Mom wasn't absorbing any nutrition from any of the food she was eating. 

Mom's appetite had been getting smaller and smaller since the middle of the summer, at least. At that time she was discharged from the day program because she wasn't strong enough to manage her own weight transfer to get from her wheelchair to the toilet. That was definitely a significant milestone because after that we had to be ready to help her toilet every time and she was having trouble simply standing and turning to sit on the commode.

It was hard to tell if her condition was going to reverse and she would make another bounce back into strength and function. This weakness contributed to the aforementioned bowel emergencies. If we forgot to remind Mom to toilet, she would end up with an urgent need to go, and unable to get to the toilet in time. 

At some point in late August and early September, she was dealing with diarrhea. There wasn't anything she could eat or drink that did not trigger bowel cramps. At that point she was eating and drinking so little, it wasn't difficult to put her on a water and herb tea fast to see if we could get her bowels functional again. This put an end to the bouts of diarrhea and she was able to rest comfortably, sleeping most of the day and night. She would wake up for sips of water, graduating to broth and then soup. Eventually she was able to eat some solid foods again, but in extremely small quantities. 

At this point, her weakened body became unable to hold her weight to stand. In hindsight it is much easier to see the progression toward life ending weakness. At the time, I just kept thinking she was going to get some of her strength back and we would continue as we had been, but with a smaller range of activity. 

It's hard to describe how my vigilance transitioned over the years Mom was here and I was looking after her. Her bedroom door was never closed, and I could hear her breathing wherever I was in the suite. If she started to try to get up, I could hear the increase in her respirations, and small grunts of effort. I would go to attend to her, to help her with whatever she was trying to do.

Mom wasn't that hard to look after. Her dementia would flare into agitation, usually in the early hours of the morning, sometimes in the late afternoon. I had extra doses of Rispiridone to give her and that would help her settle down and get back to her usual self. Mom had a positive outlook on life. She only rarely admitted she was in pain for feeling weak. For the most part she focussed on other things - reading, reminiscing, observing, singing, watching out the window. She was very kind and loving to me, all her children, our friends and neighbours, and the many different caregivers who came to help take care of her. She accepted the indignities of aging with graceful resignation.

Mom was very particular about her clothes. She was always careful about how all the layers - undergarments, pants, blouses, skirts and dresses, sweaters and shawls - were carefully tucked in and smooth before she was ready to proceed back to her big chair or to lay down on her bed. After toiletting, I would help her get everything just so. She would pull herself up straight and tall and look at herself in the bathroom mirror. I would stand beside her, exhausted, burned out, grateful to be finished and ready to go back to repose. Our eyes would meet in the mirror and I would also draw myself up and feel the good energy of my own dignity and grace flow through my body. We would laugh at the sight of each other and enjoy how good we looked despite how we were feeling.

Mom is gone and I must feed the dog. Mom is here and I must get the laundry shifted from washer to dryer. Mom is everywhere and I must put on my raingear and take the dog out for her morning walk.

I'm not sure what is the next right thing to do. I can always ask Mom.