Crash and Burn day
*
Mama laughed today.
I did second half of the night shift vigil last night, which went okay, Mom asked again what was happening to her body. When I told her the same thing that happens to everyone when it's their time, eyes popped open and she snapped, "NOT MY TIME!" In the morning, the ongoing sleep deprivation caught up with me. I couldn't sleep and was a super mess, shakey and fragile.
I even went so far as to take a Tylenol PM tab, I never take a whole one of those since they knock me out for 8 hrs and still leave me groggy in the morning. I slept a big 2 hrs and horribly groggy all day. Note to self: Morning is a bad time for sleeping pills.
All the women of the household seemed messed up today except M. She was holding together well.
I was panicking because the plan was for M to return to Seattle tomorrow afternoon. I was trying to figure out just how we were going to keep up the vigil with only 3 willing vigil-ettes -- me, Sue and Ken. Meanwhile, M, the ferocious champion of the dying came to me and said, "I just can't leave her with those people (her children). I don't trust them!" I had to agree.
Upshot? M is staying as long as needed and I worked out a schedule for sitting with Mom with my sibs that covers 12hrs of 24 at least, so M and I have only 6 each or 12 together. I slept tonight for a couple hours and actually recharged so I'm good 'til 2AM when Bonnie said she'd watch. Much more relaxed and alert. Could it be that sneaking one of mommy's Lorazapam (as helper Deb suggested to me) did the trick?
Considering how much weariness and stress was occuring, we still maintained quiet bedside vigil and kept the living room calm all day. At one moment, Mom broke into the biggest, most beautiful grin and began to chuckle and laugh. I'm not sure who she was seeing, she never said, but she was glowing. And it wasn't the drugs as her swallowing was minimal so we'd lapsed the pain meds.
The VN came and prescribed an interesting party favor: a suppository made with butter and the pain meds. Grind them up, mix with the butter, roll into a weenie shape and pop in the freezer. Yes, the freezer -- oooooee! and then pop you-know-where Brrrrr. Nurse doubled the hydrocodone in these, so Mom was pretty much out of it for the day, but tonight, with Ken and M and me, she was cheerful and alert for a time. I guess I'd be alert too, with an ass full of frozen butter.
I'm glad she still has alert moments even few and far between now, asking for water (ice chips) tonight, and I got her a little rainbow sherbet. Anything for happiness.
It seems to go on forever, but over the week that I've been here, I can see the progress. Now that she's taking nearly nothing by mouth, esp the water she had been drinking, seems like she'll be released soon.
We had a fabulous thunder storm this afternoon, loads of flashing and driving, slashing rain. I mused at how cool it would be if Mama left during a big storm . . . Then the sky went clear and blue and M and I went for a long walk around our little town in the low, evening light. The air was sweet and green. Life is good.
Mama laughed today.
I did second half of the night shift vigil last night, which went okay, Mom asked again what was happening to her body. When I told her the same thing that happens to everyone when it's their time, eyes popped open and she snapped, "NOT MY TIME!" In the morning, the ongoing sleep deprivation caught up with me. I couldn't sleep and was a super mess, shakey and fragile.
I even went so far as to take a Tylenol PM tab, I never take a whole one of those since they knock me out for 8 hrs and still leave me groggy in the morning. I slept a big 2 hrs and horribly groggy all day. Note to self: Morning is a bad time for sleeping pills.
All the women of the household seemed messed up today except M. She was holding together well.
I was panicking because the plan was for M to return to Seattle tomorrow afternoon. I was trying to figure out just how we were going to keep up the vigil with only 3 willing vigil-ettes -- me, Sue and Ken. Meanwhile, M, the ferocious champion of the dying came to me and said, "I just can't leave her with those people (her children). I don't trust them!" I had to agree.
Upshot? M is staying as long as needed and I worked out a schedule for sitting with Mom with my sibs that covers 12hrs of 24 at least, so M and I have only 6 each or 12 together. I slept tonight for a couple hours and actually recharged so I'm good 'til 2AM when Bonnie said she'd watch. Much more relaxed and alert. Could it be that sneaking one of mommy's Lorazapam (as helper Deb suggested to me) did the trick?
Considering how much weariness and stress was occuring, we still maintained quiet bedside vigil and kept the living room calm all day. At one moment, Mom broke into the biggest, most beautiful grin and began to chuckle and laugh. I'm not sure who she was seeing, she never said, but she was glowing. And it wasn't the drugs as her swallowing was minimal so we'd lapsed the pain meds.
The VN came and prescribed an interesting party favor: a suppository made with butter and the pain meds. Grind them up, mix with the butter, roll into a weenie shape and pop in the freezer. Yes, the freezer -- oooooee! and then pop you-know-where Brrrrr. Nurse doubled the hydrocodone in these, so Mom was pretty much out of it for the day, but tonight, with Ken and M and me, she was cheerful and alert for a time. I guess I'd be alert too, with an ass full of frozen butter.
I'm glad she still has alert moments even few and far between now, asking for water (ice chips) tonight, and I got her a little rainbow sherbet. Anything for happiness.
It seems to go on forever, but over the week that I've been here, I can see the progress. Now that she's taking nearly nothing by mouth, esp the water she had been drinking, seems like she'll be released soon.
We had a fabulous thunder storm this afternoon, loads of flashing and driving, slashing rain. I mused at how cool it would be if Mama left during a big storm . . . Then the sky went clear and blue and M and I went for a long walk around our little town in the low, evening light. The air was sweet and green. Life is good.