Life...Resumed

What a rollercoaster ride...and it still isn't over.  I can't seem to catch my breath with all the details, and stuff that needs to be handled.  The following morning, after Mom passed, the Man and I got up and made our journey to Chapel of the Hills to set the funeral steps in motion. 

I'd already been warned that funeral homes can be a "tough sell" and prey on people who are emotionally drained.  I was ready.  If they wanted to "eff" with me, they were going to be in for a big surprise because I wasn't taking crap from ANYONE!  What a relief to be met by a pleasant woman named Kate.  She instantly put us at ease and asked the right questions.  When it came time to pick a casket, she took us to a moderate sided room and waved at one wall and said this is the least expensive and if work your way around the room in this direction (sweeping left) it gets more expensive.  You can choose a package deal, or we can piece it together to see what comes out cost effective for you.  I waited.  I knew she was going to let us have it with the "Your Mom would want the most expensive casket" speech.  She just stared back at me.  I asked her "So we just start here?" and she replied "Yes".  Then went on to say, "if you don't mind, I have a couple of phone calls to make.  Why don't you take your time, discuss your options together and when you're ready, meet me in the conference room and we'll pull it all together".  Huh?  In a way, I was let down, cuz I really wanted to blow off some steam and she would've been the perfect victim, but she was depriving me of that release by being so damned nice. 

She left, and we chose a casket called the "Meridian", a beautiful wooden dark cherry casket that looked rich in color but not too bad on the pocket book.  We went back to the conference room and told her our choice and proceeded with the rest of the arrangements.  However, we still had to purchase a plot, so we made our appointment with the Auburn Cemetary.  All in all, the whole process could've been so much worse than it was (i.e. still is, because I'm not done).

People have been pretty cool about the whole thing, except for this jerk I work with.  I went to work for 3 half days, and she proceeded to block me into my cubicle and drill me about Mom.  How are things, how is she, etc..when this woman doesn't have two words for me any other time.  I told her "Mom's dead", to which she replies, "Oh well you must not have been close if you're here and not crying".  I wanted to kick her ass 6 ways from Sunday!  I said, "Yes, we were close but the funeral isn't till next week and I have a couple of things to take care of here.  What do you want?" She starts talking about her Dad's death, and I told her, "Look...I don't want to talk about this stuff, or I'll start crying, so either talk about work, or go away".  WTF???  Some people are so obtuse. 

Anyway, I'll blog again soon.  Gotta get back to the family stuff. 

Life...Interrupted

As I was working on the prior post, I noticed a change in Mom's breathing.  It happened so quickly, and then it was also slow motion.  I'll save you the description except to say, it's so much different when it's someone you love struggling during those last breaths.  Your chest hurts because you want to breathe for them and your throat constricts because you're feeling their lack of air.  And all of the sudden...you can hear the air escape in a long fluid push and then silence.  I put my hand on her chest  and her heart wasn't struggling like it used to.  I shook her.."Mom, mom wake up".  But she didn't.  I knew but all the thoughts race through your head. A million thoughts race through your head and you struggle to grab onto just one. The one I finally grabbed was, call a nurse. So I did.

The nurse called the doctor, and as I waited for them to call the time of death, I called the Man. I told him Mom was gone and I apologized that I didn't call him sooner so he could be with her. But truthfully, there just wasn't time. I'm not sure she wanted to die with just me with her, but she did know that I would take care of her. The doctor called the time of death as 12:30 a.m., but she really did leave at Midnight.

While I was sitting with her, waiting, every so often she would expel air, and I would think that I was wrong and that she was still alive...even though I knew she wasn't.  The Man arrived and we sat with her till about 2 a.m. Signed papers, gathered her belongings, gave a final kiss and left. Even now I think it is a quiet exit for a woman that lived such a large life.

The Decision

So the doctor visited us this morning and basically said that Mom would not be going home. The carbon dioxide levels in her blood are high, etc.  The doctor said to give it one more day then, if the results are the same to opt for "Comfort Care".  After discussion between the three of us, we opted for "Comfort Care" and decided to start immediately.

CC is when they stop all the prescriptions, etc and basically make sure Mom is comfortable for the time she has left.  She's on a morphine drip and is no longer moaning, tossing, etc.  She's comfortable and sleeping.  It's weird being confronted with the decision, and although you know it's the right one, there's always someones eyes that make you re-think it.  A family friend came today and Dad had me explain the decision and to make sure she understood that Mom is dying. The friend kept saying things like, "she'll get better", etc. When talking to Mom, she'd say, "Open your eyes.  Who am I? Recognize me. You're going to get better, etc." It was like laying on a bunch of guilt

What Do You Do?

When modern medicine only prolongs someones agony and doesn't allow them to die peacefully? Mom needs to go home. She's not happy here. She doesn't sleep at night, moans, groans, talks incoherently and pulls at everything. What I feared is coming to pass.

I've already managed to piss her off, and now she says that she never imagined that I could be so sneaky. She had a death grip on both of my hands and was begging me for water. I had to losen her hands so I could pour fresh cold water from the pitcher into the cup. As I'm losening her hands she's fighting me saying that I'm going to leave. I assure her I'm not...but it becomes a struggle. Do I losen her hands and ignore the water plea? Water wins out as it's so vital for her, but prying her hands lose has pissed her off. And so it goes, all night long.

For the second nite in a row, they want to give her Ambien to sleep when the doctor clearly said that it wasn't good for her age and condition. The first night he admitted he forgot to change the order. What's the excuse for the second nite? I don't know. I'm thankful that I did a stint as a CNA as it's helped me to turn her in bed and change sheets, etc. All the old tricks come back. But I gotta tell ya 6 days have taken it's toll on me. 5 of those nights have been mine, only one of the five shared. I bit the head off the lady at the card store when I purchased fathers day cards the Dad and Norm. Part of it was stress and the other resentment that I was doing this and no one from his side of the family...including him, wished me a happy mothers day. I gotta suck it up and get over it, but with all the events of the past 7 months, it's been hard to do.

Back to work... Mom's trying to escape from her gown, yet again.
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The Art of Dying

It's 5 a.m. and it's been another long, restless night for Mom Trafton. In a hospital chock full of doctors and nurses, state of the art equipment, round the clock care and a willing daughter, there's nothing to stave off the long arduous process of dying.

Although it's different for everyone, for Mom it means a lot of moaning, groaning, aches, pains and irritations. It means not eating or drinking and generally, checking out of the daily process. It also means precious moments of clarity, a smidgen of laughter and tons of feeling hopeless.

As I was trying to find mom a comfortable spot and asking her for the umteenth time "Mom, where does it hurt?" she looks into my eyes sweetly and says "Me". Although I smile back at her, I know that I can't help her if all of her hurts. Am I even helping at all? She's snoozing now and believe it or not, the skill you learn as a parent kicks in... You know, when your baby sleeps, you sleep"...so I'm gonna catch me a few moments while I can, but even with that comes guilt, because you know you're gonna sleep thru the moment when she wakes up and starts tearing everything off of her, monitor connections, wrist bands, oxygen, clothes and the nurses will come in and you feel like the worst daughter in the world cuz you didn't stop her in time.


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WTF...No Rant???

There's so many things to rant about these days…The direction of our Government, the passage of the Health Care Bill (I'm for reform, but I'd like to know what's in the bill before it's actually passed..wouldn't you?), that Bastard Jesse James cheating on my girl Sandra Bullock (there's an idiot that would trade prime rib for hamburger ground from the oldest cow that expired from disease…), The continuing saga of Tiger Woods, The ongoing Furlough arguments in California,  The husband in the doghouse, etc. But today, I say we take a break from the ranting and sniff the roses.

Yes my Peeps, the sweet roses of Freedom!!!  I will be off of work until next Thursday, as I am posting some "furlough" and we have Caesar Chavez day off at work (don't start me ranting about that one please!!!).  The man is going with his "manly friends" to ride Quads in the sand (well, due to his knee surgery, he won't be riding, he'll be the designated cook) during spring break and that leaves me alone with my kitties and hair straightening process for at least 4 to 5 days?  OMG…how long has it been since I've had the house to myself? 

We bought our home in 91, and for the most part, of almost 20 years, we've had people living in the house with us longer than it just being the two of us.  My brother, My Mother, My Sister, the Boy (we don't count him though cuz he's ours!), His Mom.  Just when we breathe a sigh of relief…here comes someone ready to move back in. I usually work a 4 day, 10 hour shift so I would have my Mondays with just me in the house, doing housework, vacuuming naked, etc.  That hasn't happened in a long time.  I miss those days when I could enjoy the stillness, sip my coffee, go out on the deck and smell the pine. It was my day to do what I wanted. 

Freedom is back and I can't wait! Everything has been so heavy since last July, with the project implementation, the death of my mentor, death of two friends, two parents with hospital stays, husbands knee surgery, kitty's pancreatitis, etc.  I need to feel the stillness again.  Dizzy needs to be in touch with herself (nasty peeps...I didn't say touch myself…although….). I'm gonna make my espresso, read a book, watch trashie Girlie flix on the boob tube, drink with my BFF.  Ah….all is right in Dizzyland.  And so my friends, I hope your weekend is as enjoyable as mine will be (knocking on wood aka head).

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Hope and Change

What is this whole direction of people saying they want "Hope and Change"? What exactly does that mean? Why are those two words so overly used right now?

Question - How do you feel about the economy? Answer – I'm looking for hope and change.
Question – Why are you out here protesting (regarding increased tuition in CA colleges)? Answer – Because we need hope and change.
Question – What are you looking for in a President? Answer – I want my President to bring hope and change.
President while campaigning…"I will bring hope and change".

Really People??? REALLY? I don't know about all of you, but when did it become the responsibility of the government, the President, your parents, etc. to bring hope and change? Isn't that really something that only you can bring? Doesn't your mindset and attitude have to be in the right frame in order for you to recognize hope and take action for change? Our system of democracy in the United States was built upon people who made change for themselves. They dared to hope for a different system of government and knew that the only way to get it was to change it. When did this "can do" attitude die?

We had an instance where a couple was at the obstetrician and was paying their bill. A lady was there and noticing them paying and told them "only suckers pay the bill when the government will pay it for you". I've no doubt in my mind that she's a "hope and change" person. But the couple was stunned because they know that it isn't the government paying this lady's bill…it was them, us, i.e. the taxpayers. Where's this lady's sense of pride and accomplishment in being able to provide for herself? Worse…she's going to teach this same mentality to her baby, thereby creating another generation of snotty, instant gratification, give me…feed me…love me..bring me hope and change, whimpy-assed social leeches!

Don't like what I'm saying? Suck it up people! I bring my own hope and change. If life and luck bring me lemons, as corny as it sounds, it's up to me to make lemonade, not for my government to provide me lemonade. You never know…one day, the government provided lemonade may be substituted with a Jim Jones Kool-Aid Cocktail and then you won't have to worry about it anymore

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