Because if her incontinence, mum is refusing to come out of
her room. She has stopped going downstairs to the residents lounge and dining
room. She is fearful of having an “Accident” and needs to be near the toilet.
10 October 2013
Mum is very distressed: she messed the bed in the night. By
the time I got there the bed had been stripped and remade, but she doesn’t know
how, who or when the bed was remade. She is embarrassed, fearful and very
weepy. I tried to reassure her. I held her in my arms and gave her lots of hugs
and kisses.
I got a member of staff to reassure mum and help her get
dressed. I said I would simply take her for a little ride to see the sea and
bring her straight back if sahe needed the toilet.
I don’t think I have seen my mother so full of life and
animated. She held court and spoke to
everyone, even flirting with the men, joking with them, winking at them and
asking if they were free. Another side of mum I’ve not seen before.
I can honestly say that these last 6 months have been a
revelation. We have enjoyed each other’s company and have had some really fun
times together with lots of laughter.
15 October 2013
9:30am a phone call from the home to say that mum has had a
fall in the bathroom, catching her arm around the disabled toilet frame. They
have called an ambulance because they think she may have fractured her arm.
Would I accompany her to the hospital?
When I got there I met the ambulance crew, who immediately
recognized me, and remembered how rude mum had been to them back in April. I
told them that since her stroke in April she was a totally different woman; she
was a warm, generous, kind and loving person now.
They got mum into the ambulance, and said that they thought
that she had another stroke. Her blood pressure was up to 211. She was
conscious, eyes open, but her speech was very, very slurred. We couldn’t
understand what she was saying, but she kept pointing to her face. I held her
hand and she was able to squeeze it tight. We set off for the hospital.
As we left town, a sudden change came over mum. She closed
her eyes, stopped gripping my hand and her forehead became very clammy.
I think we all knew then that this was the beginning of the
end. They switched on the siren and flashing light, and drove like mad the 10
miles to the main hospital.
When we arrived they took mum straight into resuscitation. I
told them that mum had signed a “Do not resuscitate” form. The doctor said that
she thought it was too late for that anyway now, that she would call for the
chaplain and put us into a private room. All the staff in A&E were
wonderful: kind, compassionate and thoughtful. They couldn’t do enough for us.
Mum had collapsed on the toilet and there was poo on her feet and between her
toes. A wonderful nurse lovingly cleaned mum up – toe nails, between toes, etc.
Such dedication & compassion!
The lady chaplain arrived. Apart from assuming that mum was
my wife, she was also very reassuring and comforting. She read Psalm 23 to us
and said the Lord’s Prayer into mum’s ear. She prayed over mum, reassuring mum
that is was OK to let go of this life.
After juggling around the other patients, they found a quiet
private room for us. Mum still had her eyes closed. Her arms were moving, and
stretching out. Her breathing was heavy and her face was starting to go grey.
My wife arrived by car, thinking that she could give me a
lift home.
The Senior Registrar came into see us and asked if I knew
what was going on. I said that I was aware that mum was in the last stages of
her life. He explained to me that they operated an End of Life Care Pathway,
which meant that no amount of intervention could prevent mum from dying; but
that they would do everything possible to ensure that mum died with dignity. I
asked how long? And he thought she would live two hours. He told me to tell my
sisters that the end would be swift and painless. There could be times when mum
would make noises that I may find it distressing, but he assured me that mum
would not be aware of any distress, discomfort or pain.
The first of many cups of tea and plates of sandwiches began
to arrive.
I noticed that there was a large puddle on the floor under the end of mum’s bed. I called for help and immediately two nurses took charge. I waited outside the room. When I came back in the nurses had completely stripped the bed, washed and changed mum, and combed her hair. They treated mum with respect and dignity throughout.
I noticed that there was a large puddle on the floor under the end of mum’s bed. I called for help and immediately two nurses took charge. I waited outside the room. When I came back in the nurses had completely stripped the bed, washed and changed mum, and combed her hair. They treated mum with respect and dignity throughout.
Despite their best efforts they couldn’t find us a private
room, so at about 4pm, they moved mum to the Emergency Medical Unit. They knew
that mum was in the final stages so they found her a bed and discreetly pulled
the curtains around. They constantly came to see how we were. Whatever I
wanted, I was only to ask.
Every two hours they came and washed mum, changed her
nightie, brushed her hair and turned her over. One student nurse, Zoe, took
particular interest in us and came every 20 minutes offering me tea or
sandwiches. Poor Zoe, was almost as upset as I was. Mum’s breathing started to
alter. She still continued to stretch her arms but now she was yawning. She was
tired and ready for her eternal sleep.
Mum’s mouth was open all the time now and I could see that
her lips and tongue were getting dry. I asked for some lollipop sponges so that
I could keep her mouth moist. Although she was unconscious, I could tell when
she was thirsty. She would lick her lips. When I put the lollipop in her mouth,
she sucked it.
Slowly, the stretching of the arms ceased and she became
very still.
My three sister all phoned from around the world to say
their farewells to mum. Although she had her eyes closed, I knew she was still
there.
The staff spoke to her the whole time, telling her what they
were going to do. I kept talking to mum and stroking her forehead; I went
through all her children, her grandchildren and great grandchildren by name and
told her how they all loved her. I gave her a kiss for each one. And I told her
how much dad had loved her. I went through all the happy memories of all the
things she had done for us, how she had worked hard for us – the sewing, taking
cleaning jobs, making bread pudding for us, etc.
The Chaplain came back to see us. Given that 10 hours
previously they had given mum just two hours to live, the Chaplain said, “Your
mum’s heart doesn’t know when to stop. Has she always been determined and
stubborn?” As in life – so in death!
Mum was dying and her breathing was becoming laboured. But
on the plus side I got to eat her chicken mayo sandwiches and sherry trifle!
A strange smell started coming out of mum’s tracheotomy.
(Worse than usual.)
They said that they had a private room on the geriatric ward
but it wasn’t quite available yet. They would move us up to the main Geriatric
ward in preparation for mum’s final hours. 20:25 and we left EMU; Zoe cried and
gave me a big hug.
The Geriatric ward was interesting. Staff pulled the curtain
around us to give us some privacy, but I could hear everything that was going
on.
Muriel, in the bed opposite, was the life and soul of the
party with her repertoire of songs and hymns. I began to think that if they
don’t sedate her soon, I’d do it myself.
Madge, the woman in the bed next to mum, kept trying to come
behind the curtains. She thought that I was someone called “Mary” and she
wanted to see me.
The male staff nurse was an interesting character; he looked
like a Romanian mafia boss: shaved head, tattoos all over and an
incomprehensible accent. But wonderfully caring.
Madge eventually messed herself. (This set Muriel off with
“Abide with me”.). They had to clean Madge up, but they did it so gently and
graciously, giving a running commentary that I could hear. In the middle of it,
poor Madge decided that she needed a wee. It was a complete revelation to her
that she had a catheter fitted and could just do it!
Things started to settle down and then the ward turned into
an episode of “The Waltons”. One by one, the Romanian Mafia boss called out
their name, “Good night, Madge” and Madge would say, “Goodnight”. “Goodnight,
Muriel” and Muriel would say, “Goodnight”. The same with Joan and the rest of
them. I felt like calling out, “Goodnight John-Boy”.
All quiet. Until Muriel started shouting out, “Is everybody
asleep?” Thereby waking everyone up! Muriel then decided that she needed a wee
and they took her to the toilet.
Everyone was now awake again and Madge tried once more to
come behind the curtain. She still thought I was Mary! Joan, also was wake,
needed to have her bum creamed. This gave Muriel the chance to escape from the
toilet and wander out of the ward and down the corridor singing, “Abide with
me”.
The Mafia boss came to make sure that mum was clean and
comfortable. A wash, a new nightie, new sheets and her hair brushed. He gave me
free access to the Pantry. I could help myself to anything I wanted. While he
was caring for mum I went to the Pantry and made myself a cup of tea.
Disappointed to see that the bar of chocolate in there had someone’s name on
it.
My wife popped back with some books for me to read and left
me her mobile phone. (My battery had run out.) I suddenly realised that when
mum dies, her bank account would be frozen. Had the presence of mind to send my
wife down to the cash machine and get out as much as they would allow. Got out
£300 just in case there were any emergencies in the funeral preparations.
11:37pm and they moved some old man out of a private side
room to make way for mum. This was an incredible sad moment for me: the
realisation that this would be the room where my mother would die. In many way,
over the years, I had looked forward to this time, when I would be free at
last. But now that it had come, I had an overwhelming sense of grief. The years
of my own pain and regret at the way that I and my sisters had been treated,
seemed to pour out now as I wept.
By this time I was having difficulty getting the lollipop
into her mouth; her false teeth were dropping down. I asked the nurse to take
them out for me.
The night shift brought me a blanket and a pillow and a
chair to put my feet up on. I spent the night stoking mum’s forehead and
wetting her lips and tongue. Her lips were beginning to shrink and her cheeks
becoming hollow. The staff kept popping in to see how we were both doing.
Anything to drink? Tea? Food? They couldn’t have been kinder. Again, throughout
the night, they came in every 2 hours to wash, change her nightie, sheets and
brush her hair.
16 October 2013
5am and they brought me some tea and toast.
Mum’s features were changing. Her cheeks becoming hollower.
I asked them to put her teeth back in. She looked a bit more like mum then.
Her breathing became shallower. Her stomach began to rise
instead of her chest. A rattling sound came from her tracheotomy. The staff
assured me that mum was in no distress, and that she was not in any discomfort.
7am More tea and toast from the staff.
9:20am. Mum is tenacious to the end; holding on to life..
She was still being changed every two hours and I continued to wet her lips.
She was no longer sucking on the lollipop, but I moisten her lips and tongue
anyway.
12noon. My wife came back and brought my mobile phone
recharger. I plugged it in next to mum’s bed.
Got a takeaway from the hospital restaurant. My wife and I
sat with mum as we ate our chicken chasseur. Mum would have loved it!
2:30pm. Decided that at th
is rate, I'd still be there in the evening so I sent my wife down to the restaurant to get me some sandwiches for later. I sat with mum stroking her head and whispering that it was OK to go and that dad was waiting for her.
is rate, I'd still be there in the evening so I sent my wife down to the restaurant to get me some sandwiches for later. I sat with mum stroking her head and whispering that it was OK to go and that dad was waiting for her.
I continued wetting her lips and she began to cough. I
thought at first that I had put too much water on the lollipop and that I had
choked her! At 14:55 she gave a small cough and peacefully slipped into the
presence of Almighty God and reunion with dad. She looked so peaceful.
I spent some time with her and, despite everything prayed
and gave thanks to God that she had brought me into this world and that I had
had the privilege to be with her when she passed out of it. I kissed her one
final time and rang the emergency bell.
The lady consultant, came in. She saw that mum had gone and
put her arms around me, gave me a hug and let me cry on her shoulder.
I tearfully phoned my eldest sister who then contacted my
other sisters.
I then remembered that my wife was down in the restaurant buying
me sandwiches. I phoned her to tell her that mum had died. Fortunately, she was
still in the queue at the till and could take the sandwiches back.
24 October 2013
My three sisters have flown in from around the world for my
mother’s funeral. This is the first time
we have all been together for many years and we made the most of it.
We went to the various coffee shops that I’d taken mum to
and the retail outlets where they could try on the hats that mum had so admired
but never bought.
We travelled to Cornwall together to visit my grandmother’s
grave in Tintagel. We placed flowers on her grave and wept together. In the
church we wrote a thank-you in the visitor’s book for the way our nan’s grave
had been cared for and then binged on Cornish Pasties. Then into Boscastle to
visit mum’s brother’s grave, our Uncle Ben.
During the rest of our time together we spent the days
making our own personalised tribute to mum by creating a floral bouquet to be
placed on her coffin. We gathered together bits of knitting wool, mum’s
clothes, spare zips and pieces of material – anything we could find amongst
mum’s possessions to make our wreath.
Together with my cousin and brother-in-law I carried our
mother’s coffin into the chap
el for the service of thanksgiving.
With the aid of modern technology we were able to broadcast
the service over the internet to a wider group of family members around the
world. I wondered if the crematorium staff were quite used to a congregation of
mourners standing, waving and shouting “hello” to the webcam in the corner.
At the end of the service my sisters and I stood together
before the closed curtain around the coffin and wept and hugged each
other. And then it was off the wake at
our house with the family and friends who had come to support us.
1 November 2013
Today my sisters and I buried our parents.
The four of us stood before the hole in the ground and one
by one we placed letters that we had written to our parents. Whatever had gone
on in the past, no matter how hurt we’d been or disappointed, this was the time
to bury old wounds. We took it in turns to put in a handful of mum’s ashes and
a handful of dad’s ashes into the hole, making sure that they were mixed
together: but keeping some back for personal use. Eg. Paperweights. Mine? Some
are in a pot that has a rose in it in memory of our grandson, Ollie. Some are
in a pot containing a flowering cactus.
Epilogue.
13 September 2014
My parents’ wedding anniversary. Went to visit their grave
for the first time. The Crematorium grounds were a mass of colour as all the
roses planted in memory of love ones were in full bloom. All of them, except
for one. Would you believe it? My parents’ rose had gone completely wild and
not a single flower. Typical!
Asked a member of staff to take a look. They said they would
take out the wild branches, which meant pruning it back to the stem
13 September 2015
Together my parents moved 46 times, my mother twice more.
They are now at rest and blooming.
Thanks
Thank you everyone for your encouragement to write this
blog. Knowing that people were actually reading it was also part of my healing
and coming to terms with my mother. I particularly thank those in:
Hong Kong, Japan, Guatemala, Belarus, Romania, Germany,
France, Denmark, USA, UK, Ireland, Pakistan, Ukraine, Canada, Italy, New
Zealand, Australia,, Israel, Russia, Sweden, Philippines, Mexico, Poland,
Latvia, India, China, Belgium, Mauritius, Turkey, Jamaica, Venezuela, Spain and
The Netherlands.
Its
been quite a journey from the slums and workhouses of London to the quiet
beauty of a rural Devon graveyard. Mother may not have been happy with everything I’ve
written but she would have revelled in the thought that you have taken time to
read her story.
