The Art of Being Prepared

Our mom was discharged from the hospital on January 7th. In addition to our current live-in care, our mom was put on at-home hospice. Our family was really fortunate to be surrounded by experienced professionals to navigate the end of her life.

During her hospital stay, we noticed that doctors are hesitant to be straight forward or to gauge time. Understandably so since nothing can be predicted. But my siblings and I would wonder, “is this it?”.

It began to be more clear when we met with the palliative care team. It was emotional as you can imagine but we also felt very brave. Brave just how a mother is brave for her child. You step up for your child to protect them, advocate for them and love them. While we were losing our own mom, in a way it felt as if we were also losing a child. Our mom hasn’t been able to speak for herself in years - we’ve been her mind readers, her voice and her decision makers. She has been top of mind and our constant thought for so long.

We let the palliative care team know that our goal was to keep her comfortable and hoped she’d be strong enough to get discharged, come home, and depart when ready.

Thankfully, our hopes came true. Our mom was brought back to our childhood home where at-home hospice taught us so much. We learned that hospice nurses gauge time from hours to days, days to weeks, or weeks to months. Our mom was noted as weeks to months. A short time that also seemed unnecessarily long. “Weeks to months?” we thought - we have put our lives on hold during her hospital stay and wished we could hit pause on life forever. But, as we quickly realized, although our worlds may have stopped - life, jobs, and the day-to-day still goes on.

As weeks passed, we began to count her breaths. An average adult takes 12-16 breaths per minute so when my sister and I learned that as breaths increase, the end of life could be near, we began to count. This became our tool to gauge time. When her breaths increased to the mid-twenties, our world stopped, again. Then they began to pass thirty per minute, and then for a short time, above forty. 

We’re so thankful to have hit pause for the month of January. For us, it was a no-brainer and there wasn’t another option. We were with our mom everyday - brushed her hair, held her hand and sang her favorite songs. No doubt, the end of life is hard but I found being prepared really helped us navigate this disease. Since her confirmed diagnosis in 2017, we have been prepared - hiring an Elder Care Lawyer, working with a Financial Advisor, consulting with Occupational Therapists to alter her home to fit her needs. Counting breaths was the final tool we used to prepare ourselves. It assured us that we’d be with her when she left and although sad, in a way it was peaceful and beautiful too.

- We said goodbye to our mom on January 26th, 2023-

Previous
Previous

Our Mom

Next
Next

Concern, Comfort, in Confidence