It has been 3 months since my Mum passed from cancer. She was diagnosed with esophageal cancer on 19th June, before being further told it was also in her stomach, adrenal gland and uterus 2 weeks later.
From the very beginning she took the news like a champ, even despite being told it was terminal she always remained optimistic and determined to fight it- as she simply wasn't ready to die.
She began chemotherapy and after her first session she was never the same. It made her so unwell, the weight began to drop off her and she only managed to complete 3 sessions as her body couldn't cope and from then on she only deteriorated rapidly.
She was completely bed bound for the last 2 months and we took care of her at home as she was terrified of hospitals as she feared once she went in she would never get out. Watching her waste away was heartbreaking and seems to be the only way I can remember my beautiful Mum now. I feel as though I have forgotten all of the good times and memories we shared over almost 30 years, she was my whole world and best friend and I'm now stuck in a weird place were I'm supposed to get back to "normal" in a world that now feels so abnormal and unfamiliar.
The toughest part that I'm now struggling with is the images of my Mum in her final days. Terminal agitation was something I was never warned about and witnessing it was extremely distressing. But the part I'm hung up on is how my Mum must have felt as nothing helped her, she never slept for 3 days- sedatives never worked and she was completely delirious, couldn't make sense of anything, having conversations with herself, taking panic attacks, tossing around constantly. I also have extreme guilt as the night she passed away she was on her own when she took her last breath. I had been sitting in her room with her in the quiet of the night except her death rattle- this began scaring me and I left the room just after 3am to just gather myself but ended up falling asleep with exhaustion for no more than half an hour before I jumped awake and rushed back to her room only to find that she was gone, she was still warm. I will never forgive myself for leaving her on her own in those final moments. No one wants to die, but my Mum desperately didn't want to die, she would say all the time "I just want to get better and live" and these memories break my heart because of course I miss her- I genuinely feel like half of my heart is missing but Im also devastated for her- that this happened to my poor Mum when she so desperately wanted to live, if that makes sense?
Sorry for such a long post, I just needed somewhere to vent to, to others who have gone through similar especially in regards to terminal agitation and the actual passing of a loved one and just how traumatising it is.
Thoughts and prayers to everyone who has been through it or currently going through it
