Howdy! It's been a bit... (very sad story to follow)

[elims-09-14-13]

Hi all. According to this site, I have just not smoked every single day for 1039 days in a row. 

Wow! Almost 3 years. Feeling good. 

I do have sad news to share.

I lost my mother to COPD on July 4th. It has been 15 days and 5.5 hours since my mother passed. I don’t know when my mind will stop keeping track of that.

She got very sick the last week of May - the second time she was hospitalized for extremely high CO2 levels, and it was that hospital visit where they said there was nothing they could do but keep her comfortable. Oddly, my parents were still in denial - Mom was even mad that I was clarifying things with her nurses and doctors. Dad is 78 and gets confused, and was giving bad information to my brothers and I, so I had to take over. 

I picked up the Hospice information in her hospital room and she said, "That’s just information. I don't need that. Don't tell your brothers." Silly Mom. Hospice pretty much started 2 weeks after she discharged a few days later.

It wasn't until the middle/end of June that she realized the gravity of her situation. Hospice said she should move our long-planned family meeting up from 7/9 to 7/2. My brothers and I weren't sure how she was doing - she sounded fine when we talked and looked better than one would expect  - but we didn't want to meet 4th of July weekend, and so we all met as a family on June 25. This "meeting" was Mom's excuse to get her children into one room, for the last time. If only we had known.

Not a one of us would have said that she would not be around 2 weeks later when we were going to et together anyway - since my brother's original flight was non-refundable, non-changeable. 

Saturday July 2 I worked 5 am to I don't remember. I hadn't gotten much sleep before work, and I didn't get a nap after. When my dad called me that evening I was so tired, and when he said he thought it was her last night - I lost it. I just wanted to give my Mommy one last hug. But we agreed between the exhaustion and emotion it wasn't a good idea to drive. He would call me if things got worse, I would try to sleep in case I really HAD to come. She had asked us to write her goodbye letters, so I asked dad to print mine so she could read it in case the mail didn't get there in time. 

At 5 am Sunday Dad called and said Mom asked for me and the kids. This was big because she had not wanted the kids to see her. I knew it was big. I got there as soon as I could. We all hugged her, and then she shooed my kids and Dad away so she could talk to me alone. I got the amazing blessing of my mother saying goodbye. Telling me she loves me and is proud of me and my kids. She was so tired and hurting she couldn't even lift her head to look at me. But we talked. She expressed love she had never expressed before. It was beautiful. 

She had me read her obituary; she had me read my letter, my brother's letter and my Dad's letter out loud to her. I cried. She loved. 

And at 730am my beautiful mother wanted a chocolate shake. So my son and I went and got her a shake. Since they don't sell many shakes at 730am, we had to wait for the machine to warm up and for that we got a medium instead of a small at no extra charge. 

We brought Mom the shake, and Dad made breakfast for the rest of us. When we were done, Mom was asleep in her spot on the couch. I would never see her fully awake again. I sat next to her for hours and held her hand and talked to her. She would respond by squeezing my hand but never really became fully lucid while I was there. I got a picture of me holding her hand. I had to watch close to be sure she was still breathing, and at times had to check her pulse ox. 

She responded better to Dad, and woke up a bit more when he talked. He was able to get a kiss and I got a picture of that. But she was confused and delusional for the most part. I asked if they wanted us to stay and Dad said no. She looked ok - for being at end stage COPD. 

The next morning Dad called and he was so tired. She was keeping him up at night talking about things (she planned her whole funeral and reception, and was saying goodbyes to friends and family) and loving on him and he wanted to be there for her but he was so tired. I convinced him to let me come up that night - even though I had to be at work at 5am - and I would sit with her and take notes if she wanted and he could sleep knowing she was safe.  I was coming up right after work at 3:30.

I had just clocked out when my dad called. I was in the breakroom, standing at the timeclock. 

"I think we should change your travel plans," Dad said.

"What happened?" I asked.

"She stopped breathing about 10 minutes ago. I've been watching for 10 minutes."

"Are you sure?" I'm crying at this point. "Do you want me to come? I'm coming. I'll be there in an hour."

"I've called hospice. They are on the way. You can come give her a hug. She'll be here. See you soon."

I think my knees started to give out - and I know I was crying and I felt my coworkers around me and I could just say "she's gone, I have to go." 

I made it to my parent's house in record time. I made the calls I needed to on the way - both brothers, my pastor, my other family who was taking care of my kids, my boyfriend. I kept it together for the most part.

I won't go into detail on the rest, but Mother looked out for us until the end. She didn't want Dad to be alone so she had him call his sister to sit with her. She didn't want me to be there - so she left before I got there. She slipped quietly and peacefully, and hopefully without too much pain. She just stopped breathing. She looked the same as when I held her hand while she slept the day before. Her last meal was that shake.

My mother smoked for 50+ years. She only quit in the last couple of years - I think February after I quit. She didn't quit when she had part of her lung removed (my brother remembers it as cancer - maybe she didn't tell me that), she didn't quit when she was told that her lungs were failing and irreparable, she didn’t quit when she was diagnosed with COPD, she didn't quit when she was put on oxygen 24/7. At the time she said she didn't care - but I guarantee at the end she wished she hadn't done that to herself, or to us. 

My mother had been fiercely independent. She hated losing her independence more than anything else. She hated any of us worrying about her or fussing over her - which is why she never wanted any of us to know she was sick. The thing she said most at then end besides I love you was I'm sorry.

My mother was 75 years old. 49 days shy of 76. She had been married for 49 years and 5 months exactly. It was only 39 days from he last hospital admission to her passing. We always think we have more time. 

I am so glad that everyone reading this has made the choice to quit. Yay you!

None of us will get out of here alive, but we can make the choice to try and live healthier and longer and better.