I'm losing my best friend in the world.
My mother was diagnosed with lung cancer last December which had spread to her liver and bones. It initially responded well to treatment. They then found what they thought were three spots in her brain but it turned out to be thirteen. She had radiation and two cycles of chemo and was due to finish another round of chemo.
My mother was rushed to the hospital Thursday night with shortness of breath and tightness of chest. I went with her in the ambulance.
My sister called me in hysterics Friday morning, telling me that they were giving two options - ventilator or what they call a bypap machine, which forces oxygen into my mother (it does not do the breathing for her). She, my mother, my father, and I chose the bypap machine.
So I called a friend to race me to the hospital yesterday and called into work for the millionth time. My mother has pneumonia but they can't go in and drain the fluid but they are giving her antibiotics intravenously. I was at the hospital for eleven hours yesterday. I reconciled with my father (who is remarried but was also bawling yesterday, as we all were) as well.
My mother could speak but it was a bit hard to understand her due to the loudness of the machine. One had to get up close.
Long story short, they said she was not coming home again. My mother, sister, and I were weighing whether or not to let her stay in the hospital or go to hospice; her breathing had to maintain itself for the transport across town. As of now, that's a no go. My mother feelt that the attention being paid to her at hospice wouldn't be as detailed as the hospital, as they're two different types of facilities.
So basically it's looking like it's not a situation of if but when.
I cried so much these past few my eyes felt like they were on fire.
Last night before heading home, I stopped by to say goodnight (after spending two or three hours there conversing with my mother and my sister this afternoon; I told my mom I was heading back to work tomorrow. She grinned and said, "It's about time."). My sister informed me that her breathing levels kept dropping with the mask on and she was hyperventilating. So they gave her an Ambien and told my sister to leave the room, as she was freaking out. But when I got there, my mom was drowsy, coming in and out of it, no doubt due to the Ambien. I told her I loved her, she replied in kind, and told me to take care. Sleep does her well.
To say that my emotions have run the gamut is a vast understatement.
I'm on an emotional rollercoaster right now, as she's all I think about and this house has reminders of her all over the place.
I want all of you to know that I love you so very much and thank you for being a wonderful family unit. You mean the world to me and I appreciate your warmth, wit, and wonderful personalities.
My sister just called me from the hospital at about 9:30AM this morning.
My mother is sluggish and they can't take the bypap off of her, even for a second before she starts hyperventilating. My sister said she's groggy and will wake up and be responsive for a bit before going back to sleep.
The one nurse who's been there all weekend said even with the bypap on, she's only got a day or so at most because all of the factors (cancer, pneumonia, et al) are weakening her heart. What they can do is give her Ativan and another drug and she'll just go to sleep and not wake up. My sister and I are going to leave her on the bypap for the next day or so, then make a decision tomorrow. And my sister begins class at Savannah Technical College tomorrow.
I think what really hits me the hardest is the fact that I've been living with her for so long, even prior to the illness. She's been on Social Security due to back injuries in the early '90s. So with my paycheck, my father's alimony, and the aforementioned SS check, we'd pool our resources to make ends meet. But beyond that, I'm the sibling that's closest to her. We're movie buddies, TV series-watching buddies, and avid readers. We're not just mother and son, we're the very best of friends and always have been. I mean, she taught me how to read before preschool. We'd bring paper bags of books home from the library before I started kindergarten and I'd have them read that night. I was reading It by Stephen King in second grade. I have her to thank for my love of books and so much more.
I know it's a cliche to say this but part of me feels like when she's gone, my whole world, my best friend, my closest confidant, is gone forever. She's only 56 fucking years old.
So they're monitoring her now. I have work today (at 3:30PM; yesterday my mother said, "It's about time", and grinned when I told her I was going to work today.) and I really have to go, as I've called in so much recently that they're already talking about me taking a leave of absence. But I need the money, as I've got to begin preparations to figure out a place to live (as this rent, on my own, is out of the option; my mother's SS check wasn't hitting until the 3rd), and getting this house and various other affairs in order will be an arduous task, very cut-to-the-bone deep on an emotional level.
My Aunt Ellen just called. My Uncle Charlie (one of my mother's two living brothers) will be arriving here in the next day or so. She said he's going to be a wreck when he arrives, as he was bawling on the phone so make him comfortable. He needs a place to stay and he's more than welcome to stay here. I told her we've been old hats at the bawling thing these past few days.
To all of you once again, thank you so much. You're all wonderful people whom I love and adore. Thank you for letting me confide in you. You mean everything to me.