I wrote a very long post yesterday which was read by Elephant's Child before it disappeared. I think I pressed a wrong button somewhere and I keep getting error notices from Blogger that also disappear before I can grab the error number to email them about the error.
Nov 30, see mother, very ill. Home at 6 and phone call, mother much worse, needs us.
I sit from 6 til 8 next morning in a chair designed by the Spanish Inquisition and cripple myself.
She really was dying, nothing fake about that. Oxygen, morphine, anti-psychotic drugs for the terrors, struggling to breathe, eyes fallen back in her head and red in a pale face.
By the next Friday, she is sitting up in bed after a shower and eating breakfast.
Saturday morning, deep in the only sleep I've had since the last Saturday, the phone rings. After I calm the heart beat down to non heart attack, I realize it's mother. She's rung my number but can't remember how to talk into the phone. I hang up.
Sunday, she is off the morphine by injection, no oxygen, other drugs gone just some ventilin to clear the lungs.
I don't ring, take her calls or go to see her for 4 days. Something has snapped inside me. After sitting for so long with half my mind watching her die and the other half preparing a funeral, I've lost it completely. I cannot get my mind to reboot to normal and I'm dealing with the fact that I am filled with anger that even dying, she managed to manipulate me into being with her because she was frightened.
I refuse to go to the Christmas Party. I go down the next day and she has more visitors than she can handle. Tells me off for not getting them out. Afternoon tea is party leftovers, which I don't get so I can't tell her not to eat it. I do tell her to put the bed up but she's in charge and doesn't so she shoves the chocolate crackle slice into her mouth, doesn't chew it and chokes. As in purple in the face, no breath choking but manages to bring up most of it with much coughing and more choking.
In between coughs and flying crackles she points to the Kleenex box so I move it closer to her and she looks in and says, "Wash my teeth, there's chocolate on them". The carers are hovering around by this time so I pick up my bags and leave.
Only been back once, yesterday and only because she needed her DVD viewer because she was tired of looking at the ceiling. I didn't intend to take it, the BOH was going to do it and called in on Monday night to pick it up. By the way did I have any painkillers, his hand was hurting from using it to break his 8 foot fall onto a concrete floor. I take one look, tell him to get to the hospital as it was broken, no it's not, he just needs painkillers. Tuesday night I get a call, do I have anything stronger than the pills I handed out the night before because they don't give out painkillers at the hospital where he is having his arm plastered from wrist to elbow.
My sister asked mother if she saw anyone from the other side when she was dying. By the way mother wasn't dying, just a little ill for a day or so. Yes, she saw her mother and my father and sister asked why didn't you go with him? Mother said he told her to go back. I swear if he wasn't already dead, I'd kill him.