HOW DO YOU DOCUMENT REAL LIFE...
Honestly, I wasn't even going to go to Seneca today. I really needed and wanted to get some stuff done at the house. If anything, I was going to go up after dinner and just check in. Hospice didn't seem that concerned and actually said Glo was slightly better yesterday. I got a call around 3 in the afternoon and Jen, the nurse, said I should probably get up there.
I got to the room and she was in and out of it. Really kind of fighting some times with fists in the air. I asked her if she saw anyone. I expected (and maybe wanted) all these dead people in the room with us. She didn't really say anything. I guess that was a no.
I had gone to bed last night around 3 am and was up at 7. I started doing some stuff in the basement and hadn't eaten. I ended up eating her cookies and pudding.
Her eyes are starting to sink in. She's not really responding but she's holding my hand really tight.
I've started taking pictures of the room. What would be the last thing she "sees" from her bed...
What the windowsill looked like...
The pictures that were on the wall...
Her jewelry box that now contained a bunch of junk jewelry from the sales there and the plastic beads from the parties we had.
I can't help thinking - "how did we get here - how the hell…" I know, obligatory RENT reference. ;-)
It was just like RoseBud - taking pictures on the ground to document the life she "saw." I feel like I need to remember this though I don't know why I want to.
I can't help thinking this is going to be me.
Or will I have no one?
Will I be all alone?
So I continued… opening drawers and closets and photographing everything just the way it was. From the life she had to this - a plastic water pitcher with her room number on it...
… and one shoe because I quit looking for the other and she hasn't been able to walk so it didn't really matter.
Who would have thought it would end like this? She was so particular and had everything just so and here we are in a nursing home. I'm grateful I was able to be here so much since I worked here. I feel guilty though for all those times I didn't stay longer because I was in such a hurry to get out of work. I can't catch my breath over it some times though I know I did more than most would. I tried. I just wish I would have done better… did more.
I can't stop thinking about how this is going to be me with no husband and no children and what happens if I have a dog... Who will take care of it? Carey will. Carey will take care of it for me. ;-)
I know this isn't about me or my dog and the nurses are telling me I don't need to stay and Sweet Jimmy the nurse is saying he doesn't want me to get sick and I should go. What if she wants me to go? I wasn't there when my Mother died in the hospice. I was in her bed with David and Gypsy and now everyone is going to be gone - one by one until it's just me.
I found this card on her night stand.
…and I found this in her dresser from one of the priest visits.
I put it one hand (because I don't want her to suffer eternal fire) and a plastic rosary in the other.
Sweet Jimmy is coming in more often and giving her morphine. I think she's comfortable. I'm not sure. Part of me is hoping it's going to be soon and part of me wants this to go on forever. I'm regretting changing her POLST when we went over it. I kind of wish I would have gone against her wishes and did more than comfort care. I know this is no way to live but, I've said it before, is this the way to die?
I know I can leave but I don't want to. I remember when we were in Norfolk and Dave got the call about Daddy and I remember saying " I don't want him to die alone."
I don't want her to die alone either so I've decided to stay the night.