Hard Things To Hear

When you enter the Hospice program you do so with the understanding that your loved one is within 6 months of death, as a rule. However, that is a vague, generalized notion and, with Alzheimer’s, that 6 month window can extend a good bit longer. It was in this setting that I was advised on Monday by the Hospice Nurse that, based on what she is seeing in Mom’s condition and behavior patterns, she doesn’t expect Mom to live more than another month or so.  A “drop dead date” as it were, for which I was wholly unprepared.

It has taken me this long to put this down on the blog because writing it makes it seem so final. And it isn’t. It is merely her professional opinion based on her years of experience with the process of dying. It is her professional opinion, in combination with one of my caregivers, who also indicated that she was bracing for the end of June, based on her experience. So I have wept, I have gotten my panicked, “What will I do and where will I go” attack out of the way and I am now focused on two things; taking care of Mom and making the most of the suddenly limited time that I have with her.

IN reality the time is no more limited than it was from the outset, but I am now feeling that limit a bit more realistically. She is sleeping even more than she was before. She hardly stays awake for breakfast and that is dropping down to just a few bites now, as her dinner has been for a while. These days her dinner consists mainly of melon and yogurt. She almost never finishes the yogurt. Breakfast is just a few bites of whatever the main meal item is, a bite or two of toast with jelly and, with luck, 2 or 3 of the most important pills. I am most often now giving her the morning pills with her evening meals. I can still get her to take them when the caregiver can’t seem to wheedle them into her.

The Hospice Nurse said that, before the end, many patients become more wakeful and engaged with the family and caregivers for a short period of time. She said, it’s as if they wake up to say good-bye and when they drift back off then they pass on soon thereafter. She said that families often think that they are improving, bouncing back, and then are devastated when death follows shortly thereafter. She wanted us to be prepared when that event occurs, so I guess that now we are. .

Our dog has gotten to the point where she is so anxious, in reflection of Mom’s anxiety, when we get Mom out of bed to use the toilet each morning that the only way she can be comforted is to lay on my bed where she can see mom and know that all is well. When Mom is finished and tucked back into bed to sleep, the dog then gets off the bed and goes on about her day. If she isn’t where she can watch Mom and know that she’s okay, then the dog stands outside Mom’s door and whines anxiously. This has proven to be a blessing because it tickles Mom to look over and see the dog there, watching over her. I’m not sure if she fully understands that the dog is concerned for here, but there seems to be a unity of spirit between the two of them that comforts them both.

Posts from here on out will probably be fairly unexciting… I don’t expect to see big changes in Mom, but I will try to wrangle my own emotions a bit more effectively so that y’all have a more timely understanding of Mom’s progress. My feelings don’t change things in the great spectrum of things, but sometimes they make it hard for me to sit and rationally lay out what’s going on. I know, I know. Big girl pants, Get ‘em on!