Hi all,
Mom finally gave up today and everything feels surreal. The Oncologist said there was nothing else she could do for her stage 4 bowel cancer in mid-September and after almost 2 years of fighting sent her home to die. I can remember the feeling of the earth coming to an end on that day, but I still had hope because although weaker, she was still here with us. My mom is my best friend and I'm part of a very tight knit family. I think each of the 4 kids she had, probably gave around 5-10 calls each to mom per day (yes she got tired of us, but she never not answered).
For the last couple of weeks she's had jaundice as a result of her liver failing and gone downhill. We started off with weeks, then days in terms of the progression of her symptoms. Although I think we all knew in the back or perhaps middle of our mind that mom was going we still refused to accept it - she was 59yo! Never smoked, lived a semi-healthy life and loved her family, there was no reason to ever imagine a life without her. But here we are - without her.
In her last days she lost all ability to use her legs, control her bowel or bladder and speak. Her eyes became severly yellow and glassy, so much so that sometimes I thought she wanted to cry. The mom who I knew as such an independant woman, began struggling to ask me to turn her on her side because even that she couldn't do for herself.
On the night before she died, she was unable to swallow and began choking on her saliva, we had to call the ambulance in and watch as 6 paramedics used a suction machine. We were then told that fluid had entered her lung and she would be going that night. A few hours before that as her children sat around her praying and speaking to her she mumbled "don't cry kids, please don't cry. I'm not going anywhere. I don't want to leave." Showing that at even that point she refused to give up.
At 2.20pm the next day we were called into her room to be with her as she took her final breaths (breath she struggled to take since the night before). Her body remained warm a few hours after she died, before rigamortis set in. My younger sister believed that she was still alive and was just practising her dark humour. It wasn't until sometime after when I asked her nurse how she knew it was time that she told me mom had looked her square in the eye and started crying as she grasped for breath and that's how she knew. That's funny to me because all through my mother's cancer journey she had never cried and certainly believed that she would beat it. She was such an optimist.
She was tired and we had all given her permission to let go. We assured her that we'd be OK and take care of eachother so I guess that was enough.
Cancer is such a soul destroying disease and I wouldn't wish it on my worse enemy. It doesn't just take lives, it takes your dignity, your indepence, your livelihood and your faith in God and life.
I wish I had done many things with and for my mom, but I know we did all that we had to do in the time that was given and I love her dearly. They say the good ones die early, but I don't accept that because I don't think I'll ever understand why or how my mom could be taken so soon and cruelly.
