Thursday I got done with my work early, so I asked my boss if I could leave early to go and spend time with Kim. She said yes. I quickly shut down my computer and headed out the door.
The wind was cool and it was cloudy out. I could feel the tears already wanting to surface. I got to my car and sat down inside...took a deep breath and started the car. I had to make it through the grocery store at least without crying to pick up some flowers.
I went straight to the floral department and began looking. None of them seemed just right, but I settled on some fall colored flowers--two bunches--a green vase and a small happy birthday balloon. I went to check out and headed home to change clothes. I sent Kim a text message, knowing she wouldn't respond, that I would be there soon.
I came into the house and changed. I re-read my last post and decided to print it off. I knew it would be hard to read it to her, but I knew I wanted to try. I grabbed it off the printer and headed out the door.
When I got to the hospice home, I signed in and again I could feel the tears just beneath the surface. I quickly scanned the guest sign in log to see if there was anyone else who might be in her room. There was one name with a sign in time of about 10am. I figured they had forgot to sign out.
I headed towards her room. I turned the corner and down the hall I could already see her doorway was decorated with "Happy Birthday" decor. As I approached her room, I could not hear any noises. I walked into the door way and noticed no one was sitting in the room. A few steps further and I could see Kim laying in bed dozing. I glanced around the room and there were approximately 6 vases of all different types of flowers. Cards were scattered amongst them.
I set to work getting the flowers I had bought her in the vase with some water and was thinking about where to put them. Kim's eyes opened and she looked at me. I said, 'Happy Birthday honey' in a soft tone. I don't think she immediately recognized me. She had a sponge swab in her mouth. She pulled it out and said 'Thanks.' She dipped the sponge in the cup of water by her bed and began sucking on it.
I asked, 'Have you had alot of visitors?'
She said, 'yep.'
'Did your girls come by yet?'
'No...not yet. I have to call and find out when they are coming. But my phone is a piece of shit and I haven't been able to get it to work right.'
I finished getting the flowers in the vase and decided on a spot by the window. It was so hard to hear her as she was talking that I asked if I could sit on her bed by her. She said yes.
'I can't get out of bed anymore by myself. I have that monitor on again. (the bed alarm). I fell yesterday. I was stuck on the floor because I couldn't reach the button for help. So....I laid there and had to call out for help until someone heard me. When they came to pick me up...the way they were doing it...it hurt me. I hurt everywhere. I don't think they believe me because they can't see anything wrong.'
As you read that, rather quickly I am sure, imagine it taking you about 10 minutes to say that...in between swabbing your mouth with a sponge because your mouth is so dry your tounge sticks to the roof of your mouth....and not being able to speak very loudly and having to repeat parts of it.
'Are you eating or drinking anything anymore?' I asked.
'No.' She said.
I knew this was not a good sign. 'Do you want to go and sit outside? It isn't too cool out.'
She asked, 'Can we go for a ride? I really want a cigarette.'
'Sure.' I said. She asked the nurse to come in and disconnect her from her IV pump which continuously gives her pain medication. The nurse then helped her get into her wheel chair. As the nurse helped her, it dawned on me that Kim's pj pants were barely hanging on to her waist. If her belly wasn't bloated from cancer, they probably would have fallen off.
It is hard to type out how disjointed her conversation with me was. She was having a hard time finishing thoughts and would have to restart her sentences several times....and sometimes not finishing them at all. I would gently try to help her finish her thoughts. The nurse and I helped her to finish up little things she wanted done before leaving the room like emptying out and throwing away her water cup, putting the bottled water back in her fridge, turning off the lights. She had not done this before when we would leave. I suspect it is her attempt to maintain control over anything she can and I am fine with that. As far as I was concerned, I was at her beckon call.
I pulled the car up to the front door as close as I could and the nurse and I got her in the car. We started on our trip. I asked her if there was anywhere she wanted to go or anything she wanted to see. She asked, 'Like what?' I said, 'do you want to stop anywhere for anything special to drink, eat, anything like that? Ice cream again?'.
'Yes....ice cream...that twist kind.' She said. I replied, 'I know where we can go.'
As we were driving and she started talking, it was almost impossible to keep up any sort of a conversation. She was easily confused as to where we were going, what she was trying to say, or where we even were. When we got to the drive thru to order ice cream, I ordered her ice cream first, then I ordered something for myself. She began trying to shout, 'That's not right! What are you doing?!'. I explained in a soft tone, 'Kim, I already ordered yours.'
'That's not what I want though! I want twist.' She was upset.
'Kim...that was the first thing I ordered. It is ok.' I said again trying to reassure her.
'Whatever...I am so fucked up.' and she resigned herself and leaned back.
We finished in the drive thru and pulled over in the parking lot. Two men driving Harley Davidson Motorcycles drove by and she waved. She took a few licks off of her cone and said, 'I can't do anymore with this.' I was glad I had asked for an empty dish...I knew she would not be able to finish it.
There was an extra spoon in the dish and as she tried to dump the cone over into the dish, she tried to get the spoon through the middle of the cone. I wasn't sure what she was doing, so I said, 'Kim...what are you trying to do?' She said, 'Well, isn't that what it is there for? I am trying to get it on there.' I said, 'Kim, that's a spoon.' I moved it out of the dish and guided her hand to set the cone down. She was obviously confused.
The rest of the drive, this is how things went...not making sense and I got to the point where it was easier to not disagree or try to correct at all. I would go along with what she was saying or doing to try to keep her from getting upset.
It was hell.
Seeing her fall apart and loose herself slowly is one of the most heart wrenching things to see. I remember months ago when I asked Kim to let me know when she thought it would be our last visit together. What a ridiculous thing for me to ask of her. Being a nurse myself and having seen people die, I should have known better. I found myself getting angry again. Movies romanticise death so much that when people don't have actors and music playing in the background as someone fades away, the contrast is shocking.
After ice cream, I drove her around some more so she could have another cigarette. She tried dialing her cell phone and was getting upset and started swearing. I asked her to give it to me so I could see if I could get it to work. I did without a problem. She asked me to show her how I made it work, so I did. She could not do the 3-4 steps and gave up. It was too monumental of a task for her to do anymore.
We were almost back to the hospice home and asked her gently, but directly, 'Kim...are you ready to die?'. Without hesitation, she said 'No. I made it through one of my daughter's birthdays, and I am going to make it through the other's.' Her eldest daughters birthday is today, Saturday. 'I don't want to die on her birthday. It is her day. I don't want to ruin that. Some people know when they are going to die. I don't. Maybe I will. I don't know.'
One more birthday. As of today, she will have made it through one more set of birthdays. I wonder now how long she will fight.
We arrived back at the hospice home and we got her back to her room. I helped to get her into the bathroom and she insisted I not stay in the bathroom with her while she did her business. I told her fine, but that as soon as she was done, she had to call me so I could get in there to help her. She agreed. I thought to myself, I will read her what I wrote as soon as she gets situated in bed again. Just then, her older brother walked in. Damn.
Kim called me back into the bathroom and I helped her back into bed. Her older brother helped as well. She asked me to do several things for her. I more than happily obliged. Get her a new water cup and put some cold water in it. Put her phone in the right spot. Help her get covered with her blankets, but move her legs for her first because it is hard for her to do it under the weight of three blankets. Set her chap stick next to her magazines. She looked at me and said, ' I am sorry for asking you to do all of this stuff.'
I stopped and looked at her and said, 'there is NOTHING else I would rather be doing.' Once everything was in its place, I sat down. Her brother already knew better than to try and engage in long conversation. I had been there a little over two hours and I knew more visitors were coming.
'I have to get going sweetie. And I want you to have a little rest time before your girls get here.' Truthfully, it is more than I can handle to watch her girls be there with their dying mother. Maybe that makes me weak. Regardless, sitting there and crying while they visit is not okay.
'Okay. Thanks for coming.' I stood up, hugged her fragile, failing body and kissed her fore head.
'Love you. Happy Birthday.' A few tears found their way down my cheek.
'Love you too.' she said.
As I turned to leave, her brother stood up and told Kim he would be right back because he wanted to go and have a cigarette. We walked down the hall and didn't say anything. I signed out at the front desk and the nurse looked at me with eyes that told me so much even though she said nothing.
The wind was cold and I didn't have a jacket. I didn't mind. It felt good.
Her brother and I talked for a little bit. I asked if their mom had been out yet. He told me she had been and that Kim spent most of the time yelling at her about something so she had to leave. Kim called her mom about an hour after she had left and asked when she was coming to visit.
I told him what she had said about not wanting to die on Saturday because of it being one of her daughter's birthdays. We both agree that this is probably the last thing she is waiting for.
'I want her to let go. It's not that I don't want her here, but I don't want her suffering anymore.' The tears I had managed to keep back for hours finally broke free. Neither one of us said much more after that.
I got into my car and began to drive home.
Anytime after I see her, I am utterly exhausted. I do not physically do much when I am with her, but the emotional energy is incredible. I do not mean that to sound negative in any way. This is a unique experience for me...thank goodness...and I sometimes wonder if others have felt the same way.
She is a shadow of who she once was. I want to try one more time to see her, but every time I leave her, I wonder if it was my last.
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