Two weeks ago we had a full moon. This was when Mom was still in the psych unit, and one of the techs remarked that every time there was a full moon, they admitted twice as many people as usual. I couldn't help thinking, "Silly wives' tale." Aggles asked Mom's nurse here at this hospital if there was any truth to more people turning up in hospitals during the full moon, or if that was an old wives' tale. The nurse said, "The only people who believe that's an old wives' tale are those who don't work in the health profession. If you work in the health profession, you know it's true."
Aggles and I are in the room with Mom and hospice is giving us all comfort and support. Mom isn't able to talk or swallow. Years ago she had signed papers that stated she never wanted to have a feeding tube–so she hasn't had food or water for three days. Still, at first the fact that she wasn't being fed in any way was shocking and very upsetting. After I had dinner in the hospital cafeteria that first evening, I called Tom in tears. I was sure that even with morphine and Ativan, she must be suffering greatly. Tom immediately e-mailed me an article that explained that it actually doesn't cause suffering to a person in Mom's condition to go without food and water.
As of yesterday she has a drip attached for morphine, and we can push a button if we think she needs a little more. Today is the first day she's seemed peaceful–and it's a completely different experience being in the room with her.
Everyone says that hearing is the last thing to go, so we play soft music and say the things we want to say to her.
SuperAggle, my little sister, has been taking good care of both Mom and me.
