yesterday i told you about how mom’s fever was 104, her limbs were grey and mottled and her heart was racing at 133 beats a minute.  all tell tale signs of impending death.  so i braided her hair, told her everything i could think that i wanted her to know before she’s gone and we settled in for the night.

when the med techs came to give her the haldol last night (for anxiety) she asphyxiated and darn near choked to death so i opted to stop giving it to her.  she had been laying in bed 100% unresponsive for DAYS.  i figured we were way past the period of time she needed to be calm.  she was almost gone.

last night her feet turned cold as ice and were stiff.  her fever remained the same and she turned even more shades of grey.  but – her breathing was somewhat regulated.  it was a little taxed, sure, but overall – it was consistent and somewhat normal.

she slept relatively easily until about 2 am.  that’s when i noticed a change in her breathing, a spike in her already high fever and that spot on her neck i’ve been watching bounce up and down going like CRAZY.

this morning though – edye measured her pulse.  it was 166.   guessing it was about there based on what i was looking at on her neck last night – it’s been about that since about 2 am.  that’s over 16 hours.  that’s like running a marathon full speed for over 16 hours.  healthy people can’t do that – and my mom?   she’s not healthy.   all of her limbs are ice cold.  i mean ICE cold.  and stiff.  oh, hai rigor.   but her trunk, neck and head were (and are) sitting at 105.4 degrees all day long.

then today at 1:20pm she started breathing like a fish out of water.  taking puffs that aren’t there.  “deep puff, deep puff, exhale, deep puff, deep puff, exhale.”  it’s fast too  -puff, puff, breathe, puff, puff, breathe.  very labor intensive for the amount of air she’s getting.  generally that means death will occur within minutes.

so i laid down beside her, stroked her hair and told her it was ok for her to go.  begged her to stop fighting.  told her soon she’d see daniel and son.  asked her to please take care of dylan.  told her to say hello to my friend bandola.  then she opened that sliver of her left eye and she looked at me.  i kept talking – she stared right at me.  and there was a little eye movement – almost like the act of blinking – but she just couldn’t get it done.  she never blinked – we just laid there – looking at each other.  her struggling for air – me listening and begging her to just let go.  i kept holding her hand and stroking her hair – just staring into what was left of her and her into me.

you guys… she’s still here.  and in the last 6 hours she has opened both her eyes and they are swirling around.  looking up – looking over – rolling back a little – then forward.  each time she takes deeeeep breath they open wider – it’s almost as if she’s scared.  her eyes have been wide open for close to 6 hours.  no blinking.  she does NOT want to die.  and she is battling the fight of her life.  one she surely will lose and it’s killing me… us.

the worst part is when she can’t get a breath out of either puff, puff – she starts hollering.  loudly.  not moaning – i’m talking holler.  it’s incoherent – not words – but it’s just a yell.  i don’t think she’s in pain – i think she’s just scared.  and she just DOESN’T want to go.  she’s clinging with everything she’s got.

i pulled the help cord 3 hours into this ordeal (looking back i should have pulled it 20 minutes into it but i was expecting her to go with each breath and i really wanted this to end the way it started – just the two of us).  highgate came in and said they have never in the history of all the residents that have passed here (and this place is not new… so we’re talking a TON of people) seen anyone fight like this.  never seen anyone survive fish out of water breathing for over 6 hours.   never seen anyone as agitated or stubborn.  they have been expecting mom to die for DAYS and everyday with each passing shift – she’s still here.

i’ve been listening to her gasp for air for over 6 hours.  it’s loud.  and it makes me feel sick.  my head is pounding and i, too, can barely breathe.  this whole process has been SO INCREDIBLY emotional.  up and down, up and down.  REALLLY up, REALLLLLLLY down.  part of me feels HEARTBROKEN because my mom is so scared and agitated and i know it doesn’t matter what she’s feeling – there is nothing anyone can do.  she’s GOING to die.  the other part of me is growing increasingly angry with her.  i just don’t understand how she can continue to do this and sit here listening to me cry and begging her to let go.  she doesn’t belong in this world anymore and no matter how hard she fights – this will end the same.  it kills me that she can’t understand that.

highgate gave her large doses of every med she has in her “comfort” pack.  we’re talking sleeping pills, anti-anxiety and anti-psychotics.  i’ve been pushing the morphine button every 20 minutes for HOURS.  she just won’t let go.  and it’s killing us both.

my head hurts so bad.  highgate med techs had to bring ME in some meds tonight.  {thank you!}

her eyes rolling around proved to be just too much – so i covered them with a wet washcloth.  the on call hospice nurse said that would give them some moisture.  but as i sit here – typing out our reality – i see that left eye peeking out – staring at me as she desperately clings to life.  it’s heart-wrenching.  marcia (the on-call hospice nurse) upped her morphine to 2.5 units per hour with a 1 unit push button available every 20 minutes.  and i’m pushing it.  so she’s been getting 5.5 units an hour.  which is a lot.  a TON.  even with her liver functioning at less than 10% 2 weeks ago and all the meds on board – even with being a type 1 insulin dependent diabetic who hasn’t eating a drop of anything or had an insulin shot in 6.5 days  – even being a liver failure patient who hasn’t pooped out ammonia in 7 days – she’s still here.  it’s incredible.  i don’t understand.  i’ve found myself wondering where the hell daniel is – he’s beyond late.  typical.  man didn’t know what day it was without us… alas.

on the bright side – cristal did bring me up some of my favorite cake from my stint in the manor and gave me a little 10 minute break when the hollering had peaked.  i used my time to walk the halls and go downstairs for a tea only to realize it was cocktail hour.  ummm – yes please.  hello gorgeous box o’ white wine for old ladiez.  happy birthday to me.  and so – i indulged in a little chocolate cake and wine.  cuz that’s how i roll.  all in all a successful 10 minute break i’d say.

i’m dying here with her you guys.  please keep praying.  pray for peace and mercy for her.  she needs it more than ever now.  i’m sitting here on the bed – watching her really struggle to breathe and there’s nothing i can do.  and it’s about too much.

until soon,

*m