Things are slowly getting worse as time goes on, as expected. As of the time I’m writing this (Saturday, October 1st, 2011 — 1:56 AM — PST), my mom needs far more help than she did two weeks ago. In fact, we’re going to call the hospice in the morning to have someone visit us daily to help clean her. It kills me to admit that we can’t help her as much anymore but it took three people to help her in the shower today, four of us to get her in bed a few hours ago.

In all honesty, I’m starting to think we need to move her to the hospice. I’m tearing up at the thought but it’s all about keeping her comfortable now. I don’t think we’re able to provide that anymore.

She rarely talks (when she does, it’s barely a whisper and often unintelligible now), she can no longer hold her head up straight, there are sores developing on her body, her skin is darkening, she was wearing diapers for the past week, she can barely swallow her medication (pill and liquid)…there’s no mistaking that it’s almost time.

Worst of all is her eyes, especially when she looks at me. She doesn’t recognize me sometimes, there’s fear in them, which then turns to confusion, which then turns to a great grief when she finally understands. It makes my knees shake every time.

There are often days, though, when she’s as most as herself as she can be, and she just needs me around. She’ll get scared if she knows I have to leave the house, which is hard now as I have to leave at least once a week for a few hours. I’m back in school and needed to go in at least once a week. I chose this program as it would give me the most time at home. This passed Wednesday she got so scared when she found out I wouldn’t be home for a few hours this next Friday, she held my hand, gripped as tight as she could and told me to lay down next to her just so she could say, “Please don’t go.”

All I could do from crying hysterically was smile, squeeze her hand and ask her if it was time to take her routine medication yet…


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