I’ve neglected writing over the past months.  I can blame it on too much work, night class trying to start a Masters degree, being with my family or a host of other excuses that may seem legitimate, but they are still excuses.  Today, I am writing to go through some extreme emotions about my mother.  My mom is sick, very sick.

Mom has a host of issues, many that she had kept to herself or played down over the years. Mom has two artificial knees that were replaced several years ago.  She had lost a bunch of weight when she retired, over one hundred pounds, but her body had already been subjected to the weight through many years, she was a smoker for a long time, but had quit when she had the first knee replacement.  For as long as I can remember, my mom was far from active.  At retirement, she started playing bowling once a week and went to a gym where the machines do most of the work.  She never built up any real muscle mass that would help her stay stable on her feet.

In the last three years, she has spent about six months in total in the hospital.  But, those months were mostly due to falls.  The first time she fell, she had a slight break above her knee.  It took a few surgeries and three months for her to recover enough to go home.  The following year, she tripped over a small piece of carpet at a store.  She didn’t really lift her feet for fear of losing her balance.  She couldn’t use crutches since she didn’t have the arm strength and an aversion to lifting her feet, a psychological block.  If she had a railing or two to hold on to, she could climb stairs fairly well.  That caused another break higher up in the hip that would require two surgeries and another six weeks in the hospital. The last time she fell, she was coming out of the movies and using the wheel chair ramp.  There were no obstacles at all.  She simply didn’t lift her foot, it dragged and she went down.  My father-in-law was there.  He is her movie buddy.  They went to the cinema almost every Tuesday afternoon.  The falls was nobody’s fault.  It just happened and meant about another two months in the hospital.

Mom had finally gotten an apartment in a retirement residence.  We pleaded with her last year after she called us twice because she couldn’t get up from the couch or had slipped down the couch and was stuck on the floor.  That scared us quite a bit.  From then on, she always had her phone with her so she could call if something happened.  A few times, she called an ambulance because she was stuck.  She got some physiotherapy, but nothing that would build muscle to increase her stability and ability to stop herself from falling.  She was also very averse to her walker.  Being a strong, independent woman, a walker was a hindrance she didn’t want or need, at lease in her mind.

Almost a week ago, mom called and said she was feeling dizzy, but ok.  She was wondering if we could bring her some chicken noodle soup for lunch and do her laundry.  We were at her place not long after and she seemed under the weather, but could get up on her own, was dressed and could eat.  I saw her again that night to bring back her laundry and she was going to bed early.  She was tired.  The next day, I got a call at 9am.  Mom said she didn’t feel well.  I asked if she wanted to go to the hospital and she said yes.  I got her to hang up with me and call an ambulance.  Within half an hour, mom was in the hospital and being subjected to a broad range of tests to see what was wrong.  She revealed symptoms to the doctor that I wasn’t aware of.  To my surprise, there are a dizzying multitude of problems.  Later in the day, her condition got worse and the doctor starting asking if my mom had a DNR.  Mom has always been open and clear on this subject.  She very explicitly told us many times that she did not want tubes or suffering to be part of the end of her life.  My sister and I needed to make a decision, probably the most difficult decision of our lives.  We had to respect mom’s wishes.

While the emergency room doctor said things were moving fast, which they seemed to be, once the aggressive treatment was halted, things slowed down. Mom is now in palliative care.  Each day with her is a gift.  She is being kept comfortable and I haven’t seen my sister and nephew this much is many years.  While it is very painful for all of us to see mom this way, we still get to see mom.  She still loves her very cold lemon water, sweet deserts and we’ve discovered that she adores slush puppies.  During her lucid moments, we realize she is still very much aware of things going on around her and hears most of what is said in the room.  From time to time, we get a good laugh out of her and she participates in the joke.  Her strength may be low and ebbing, but her sense of humour is still very alive.  We laugh and cry within seconds of each emotion.  It is up and down many many times a day, but I feel privileged to have the time with her, not to mention the renewed connection with my sister and nephew.

In her last days, mom has done what she has always done, kept the family together and made sure we know she loves us to her dying breath.  Bravo, mom.  You are still amazing.  I don’t know what I did in a previous life to be so lucky, but I am sure glad to have had you as my mom.  I love you.