Mom

I don't know how to write the words I have. I doubt that putting them on a blog is the right place. I tend to keep my updates light and funny, but sometimes life isn't light and it isn't funny.

Saturday, March 22, I got a call from the hospital letting me know my mother had been admitted. Over the last few years, as her mental health has degraded, I've had a lot of phone calls from the hospital, so I wasn't worried. I finished up a few tasks at home and then headed to the hospital.

I found Mom in pain but mentally alert. Moving her to an assisted living facility a month ago had turned out well. She was making friends and being more active. It seemed all the change had created some digestion problems, though. She had been admitted to the hospital with constipation and a mass in her bowels. In short order, we got her some hydration and pain pills, and then she was prescribed a MiraLAX treatment. As her pain started to subside a little, we began to prepare for her to drink the nasty liquid. Very quickly, though, things took a drastic turn. She had trouble breathing, followed by a seizure, and then loss of heartbeat. Mom had previously signed a DNR, so there was nothing more to do. In one hour, I went from teasing her about her medicine to her passing away. The final cause of death was listed as ischemic bowel. What was the root cause of the condition we will never truly know. It happened so fast and was so unexpected that everyone was left flummoxed. In every step of her care, she was tended to and treated with best practices. She was listened to and respected. Things just took a turn nobody expected.

In the end, I am thankful to the assisted living facility that sent her in for treatment. I'm thankful for the doctors and nurses who provided the best treatment they could with the information they had. I'm thankful that I got to the hospital in time to be with Mom. I'm not thankful to sit with another family member as they passed. I am sad, broken, and overwhelmed. I'm also grateful that Mom can finally rest. Her mental health had been a real burden to her for several years now, and I'm glad that she finally has peace. I'm also strangely grateful that her death was quick, without complications such as dementia (which terrified her) or cancer. I'm also mad. We did so much work to find her a safe place to live, and she finally seemed to be finding her feet, and she only got it for a month. It feels like the ultimate insult.

After Mom passed, my sisters quickly made their way to the hospital to be with me and say goodbye to Mom. I'm thankful that I don't have to do this alone and that I have my siblings with me. I have a lot of emotions; they are all blended together, and most days I don't know what to feel. I do know that I am glad she is at peace. I also know that losing her is difficult. I wish death weren't the due collected for living life. It is such a high cost, and I never feel ready to face it.