pieceofmymindPreparation?
June 1st 2007 12:15
What am I doing sitting here actually thinking that I can “prepare” for this? All the hospice care in the world won’t make this any easier. My grandmother is getting just a little worse everyday, and it seems like the worse she gets, the more uneasy I am. I asked my mother the other day what I am supposed to do if my grandmother stops breathing while I am here with her by myself. We decided that I should just call her, wait for her to get here, and then we would go from there. We have started to talk about some of the things that will have to be done with regard to funeral arrangements and what we may do with my grandmother’s belongings. It is going to be a long and windy road, but I told my mother that I am going to go through this whole thing with her – I could never leave her stranded in this situation. Yes, I know she has a brother, my uncle, but he doesn’t do anything. He hasn’t even really been over here since this all started happening, and this is the end of the third week. There is nothing I can do to change him; he will be the one whose conscience will eat him alive after his mother is gone. Since I am the “genius” of the family, I have been selected to write my grandmother’s obituary. Who would’ve thought that I would have such a task in life? Not me, but I am honored to do it. My mother and I talked on the phone last night for about two hours just reminiscing over the times that we have shared with our mother/grandmother; we needed that. It was very therapeutic for both of us. One good thing that has come from all of this is that my mother and I are getting closer. That’s a blessing because this is only the beginning, and before we move on to the rest of the things that we will have to do, we have to say goodbye to a woman that we have both been with for our whole lives. We need each other for that.
I am a practical, realistic lady, and it is easier for me to deal with things when I face the facts. I like to lay it all out and weigh the pros and cons of any situation I am dealing with. So yesterday, while lying in bed, I just kept telling myself “My grandmother is about to die.” After it began to sound like a chant, I had to stop, but I just couldn’t get it to sink into this thick skull of mine. Am I crazy? Well, of course I am a little crazy, but that’s the good kind; I am just a little afraid that I am going to cross that invisible line between good and bad crazy if I don’t get a grip. I am a perfectionist, a straight-A student, a real go-getter…I am always able to conquer all. Until now…I keep talking about it, and talking about it, and talking about it; sometimes I even begin to feel like I’m good. Then, when I think about it, I still get that swooshing feeling that comes over me like I am about to faint, followed by the nausea, and just that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach that you have when you are nervous about doing something you don’t want to do – but you know you absolutely have to do it. I know I am not the only one to ever lose a loved one, but this is the first time in my life that I will lose someone so close to me; I still have my mother, father, brothers, sisters…the pain is just something new that I am not accustomed to.
So it is 7:40am, and I am sitting here talking to the world via my blog, and across the way is my grandmother. ALL she does is sleep, so all I do is sit here. I’ll tell you something, if you have ever taken care of someone in hospice care, I mean really taken care of them, then you know that it is one of the hardest things you can do in life. I will probably spend the day surfing the web or something, while I keep an eye on her. I check, probably too often, to be sure she is still breathing. I don’t go in and hold a mirror under her nose or anything like that, I just watch. Her breathing pattern has become something like four deep breaths, then no breaths for almost a minute, then another four deep breaths and so on. She stopped eating completely, and now, she has stopped drinking. I no longer have a chance to converse with her because I guess the cancer has spread to her brain, so she always talks about things that make no sense…she still laughs though, at herself. She knows that her “mind is not right”, that is what she used to say. Now, she doesn’t know, and if she does, she doesn’t say it. When she laughs, I laugh with her. I hold her hand, and I rub lotion on her hands because they have started to peel. I put lip balm on her lips when they chap. I give her medication when I am supposed to. I was helping her to the bathroom, but I don’t know if she can make any more trips because she has absolutely no energy. That’s it…this is what our relationship has been reduced to. It’s alright though, because she will always be with me, even after she is gone. When I was younger, and even recently, whenever I was ill, I would call her up on the phone. If I had a stomach ache or nausea, she would always “prescribe” a teaspoon of baking soda followed by a glass of water. Isn’t it ironic that I may have to use that formula to combat my nausea now?
Don't Want to Say Goodbye.
I am a practical, realistic lady, and it is easier for me to deal with things when I face the facts. I like to lay it all out and weigh the pros and cons of any situation I am dealing with. So yesterday, while lying in bed, I just kept telling myself “My grandmother is about to die.” After it began to sound like a chant, I had to stop, but I just couldn’t get it to sink into this thick skull of mine. Am I crazy? Well, of course I am a little crazy, but that’s the good kind; I am just a little afraid that I am going to cross that invisible line between good and bad crazy if I don’t get a grip. I am a perfectionist, a straight-A student, a real go-getter…I am always able to conquer all. Until now…I keep talking about it, and talking about it, and talking about it; sometimes I even begin to feel like I’m good. Then, when I think about it, I still get that swooshing feeling that comes over me like I am about to faint, followed by the nausea, and just that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach that you have when you are nervous about doing something you don’t want to do – but you know you absolutely have to do it. I know I am not the only one to ever lose a loved one, but this is the first time in my life that I will lose someone so close to me; I still have my mother, father, brothers, sisters…the pain is just something new that I am not accustomed to.
So it is 7:40am, and I am sitting here talking to the world via my blog, and across the way is my grandmother. ALL she does is sleep, so all I do is sit here. I’ll tell you something, if you have ever taken care of someone in hospice care, I mean really taken care of them, then you know that it is one of the hardest things you can do in life. I will probably spend the day surfing the web or something, while I keep an eye on her. I check, probably too often, to be sure she is still breathing. I don’t go in and hold a mirror under her nose or anything like that, I just watch. Her breathing pattern has become something like four deep breaths, then no breaths for almost a minute, then another four deep breaths and so on. She stopped eating completely, and now, she has stopped drinking. I no longer have a chance to converse with her because I guess the cancer has spread to her brain, so she always talks about things that make no sense…she still laughs though, at herself. She knows that her “mind is not right”, that is what she used to say. Now, she doesn’t know, and if she does, she doesn’t say it. When she laughs, I laugh with her. I hold her hand, and I rub lotion on her hands because they have started to peel. I put lip balm on her lips when they chap. I give her medication when I am supposed to. I was helping her to the bathroom, but I don’t know if she can make any more trips because she has absolutely no energy. That’s it…this is what our relationship has been reduced to. It’s alright though, because she will always be with me, even after she is gone. When I was younger, and even recently, whenever I was ill, I would call her up on the phone. If I had a stomach ache or nausea, she would always “prescribe” a teaspoon of baking soda followed by a glass of water. Isn’t it ironic that I may have to use that formula to combat my nausea now?
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