My OperaA morbid blog - I miss my mum
Thursday, September 17, 2009 1:29:59 AM
One of the things that has shaped my life in the last couple of years has been watching my mother be diagnosed, deal with and then die of lung cancer.
Mums cancer was spotted in her windpipe after about two years of her coughing almost constantly. Mum was never one to want to cause a fuss, she hated people running after her. Because of the location of the tumour, on her windpipe, it was to dangerous to operate so radiotherapy was started almost straight away.
After the first six or so treatments it was good news, the tumour had decreased from the size of a 50c to a 20c peice. The doctors, encouraged, decided that it would be good to good all for it and totally fry the tumour. It didnt work and only succeeded in frying mums lung and making it worse. (I dont blame the doctors though, they tried).
Christmas 2008 rolled around. We all knew that it would be mums last, I know she did. Dad was always in denial about how bad she actually was. We made sure that this year Christmas was really special. We had the full English lunch with the turkey and veges (silly in Australia with the hot weather but it was a tradition) and then board games in the afternoon. It was so much fun. We made sure she was totally spoilt. Now we hoped she would make it to my birthday in February.
She tried chemo but becasue of the blood count she only managed about two doses before they abandoned it as it was having really bad effects on her.
Mum made it to my birthday but she was in a "care and pain management facitity". She had cracked ribs (picking up the cat bowl) and really damaged her back during one of her many falls. So it was a bedside birthday celebration. Mum even had some wine. She was in for about six weeks and then allowed to come home and thankfully she now realsied she couldnt do the things that she had always done in the past. Mentally she could but her body just would not let her. She couldnt stand for long periods of time, infact ten minutes was to long.
By this time I was in the "spare" room. We moved my old single bed downstairs and made a room downstairs for mum. Dad converted the laundry into a shower/bathroom as well. It was a wicked contraption. With doors and curtains. Because our house is quite open plan downstairs we split it all using curtains so when mum went to bed we wouldnt disturb her. Although nothing actually would, the amount of drugs she was on.
She always seemed ok. She made it to her next "milestone" her 60th birthday in May. We had big celebrations, she got loads of presents and again we had so much fun. Occasions like this were always tarnished though as we would always think that this will be the last time I will be able to do this, give her presents. Give her a hug and say happy birthday. You could see it in her eyes she always felt the same.
Mum went back into the "care and pain facility" - Neringah Hosiptal on the 15th June. It was only supposed to be for a week while they try to work out how to get rid of the fluid that other drugs were causing to build up. One week turned into two. And then on the 24th June (State of Origin 2 night) we got a call from the hospital. Mum wasnt doing well. She thought that the hospital were making her worse and that they were keeping her against her will. Dad had to work that night so I went in. I stayed the night, sitting beside her bed holding her hand. She didnt want to sleep for the next two nights and asked me to wake her up if she fell asleep. Which I did.
Dad stayed the next night. He was lucky in that he can pretty much work from anywhere so he would bring his laptop in to the hospital and work there. For the next six weeks dad and I would take it in turns to stay at the hospital. Change over would be at lunch time. My work were great and understood that I needed to be there for mum and Dad. I would go in for a few hours ever now and again but I was always so tired. We would keep mum company as she slowly got worse and worse to a point where she could no longer get out of bed.
Slightly off topic, there was a lady in the bed opposite mum. She had cancer in her lungs, bowl and breast. I had gotten to know the family quite well and looked after her when her family couldnt be there during the night. She passed away after three days of suffering. I just hoped that when mums time came it wouldnt be dragged out that long.
On the weekend of the 10th July, mums brother came over from New Zealand to see her. It was such a good weekend. Mum was still with us mentally. She recognised her sister in law even though they hadnt seen each other in well over 20 years. They stayed at the hospital during the day and then stayed in the city at night. It was good for dad to be able to get out and do things. My friend, Bel, came to visit to during that time as well. We had the whole family together and mum loved it. She was smiling and laughing. Good times. Great memories to have.
On the thursday Bel and I went shopping (retail therapy) Bel bought mum a huge bunch of flowers. Pink was her favorite colour. When mum saw them her face lit up. I cried. It is the last real memory I have of her and I am so glad that it is of her smiling and so happy.
That Friday night was the worst night since the first night I was there. It was my turn to stay but I didnt get any sleep. When I tried feeding her I stopped after the second mouthful, she wasnt responding, wasnt swallowing. Nothing. I would talk to her and she would look at me but I could see she just wasnt there. I said to dad that I thought the time was nearing. In my heart I wanted it to just be the drugs but my head was telling me maybe a week at most.
On the saturday night I told dad to call me if anything happened. I said to him to just say I needed to come in now. I knew if I heard the words I wouldnt be able to drive. The next morning dad called and asked how long I would be until I was in. It didnt click. I said I would have a shower and then I'd be in. It wasnt until I was half way in I realised what he had said. That was at about 9:30am.
Mum passed away at around 10:30am on the 19th July 2008. She was 60. Dad was waiting outside for me when I got there at about 10:40am. I knew straight away becasue he never waited outside for me. Right there in the middle of the road we cried. The I went into auto pilot. Dad asked if I wanted to see her. I did. She was still warm so she had only just passed away. She looked peaceful. I kissed her cheek and said goodbye. Then dad said something to me that has stayed with me througout everything. He said, you know its not really her, its just her body. Her spirit lives in us now. And he was and is right.
We packed everything and then came the even more tearful goodbyes to the nurses at the hospital. We had become such a fixture there they had coold our area "Camp Wiffen" It was all very emotional.
Mum was cremated on the 24th July 2008. I know she was at the service. I got up and spoke, I faultered to begin with but suddenly I could feel her standing behind me, she was with me. My brother swears that he could smell ciggarette smoke (yes she was a smoker a good 10 years ago) but no one else could.
I dont know why I feel the urge to write this. I guess I am still trying to make sense of it all.
Its one thing that I have often thought about, there are essentially two ways to "go" - Im not entirely sure which I would prefer... having your loved one 1) die quickly, you have no chance of saying goodbye but knowing that they didnt suffer any pain or 2) you have 14 odd months to say goodbye, tell them you love them but you watch as they deteriorate and slowly die, eventually dying, not peacefully as everyone seems to think but choking on the fluid that has been festering in their lungs.
I miss her. (I will add a photo soon of her)
Mums cancer was spotted in her windpipe after about two years of her coughing almost constantly. Mum was never one to want to cause a fuss, she hated people running after her. Because of the location of the tumour, on her windpipe, it was to dangerous to operate so radiotherapy was started almost straight away.
After the first six or so treatments it was good news, the tumour had decreased from the size of a 50c to a 20c peice. The doctors, encouraged, decided that it would be good to good all for it and totally fry the tumour. It didnt work and only succeeded in frying mums lung and making it worse. (I dont blame the doctors though, they tried).
Christmas 2008 rolled around. We all knew that it would be mums last, I know she did. Dad was always in denial about how bad she actually was. We made sure that this year Christmas was really special. We had the full English lunch with the turkey and veges (silly in Australia with the hot weather but it was a tradition) and then board games in the afternoon. It was so much fun. We made sure she was totally spoilt. Now we hoped she would make it to my birthday in February.
She tried chemo but becasue of the blood count she only managed about two doses before they abandoned it as it was having really bad effects on her.
Mum made it to my birthday but she was in a "care and pain management facitity". She had cracked ribs (picking up the cat bowl) and really damaged her back during one of her many falls. So it was a bedside birthday celebration. Mum even had some wine. She was in for about six weeks and then allowed to come home and thankfully she now realsied she couldnt do the things that she had always done in the past. Mentally she could but her body just would not let her. She couldnt stand for long periods of time, infact ten minutes was to long.
By this time I was in the "spare" room. We moved my old single bed downstairs and made a room downstairs for mum. Dad converted the laundry into a shower/bathroom as well. It was a wicked contraption. With doors and curtains. Because our house is quite open plan downstairs we split it all using curtains so when mum went to bed we wouldnt disturb her. Although nothing actually would, the amount of drugs she was on.
She always seemed ok. She made it to her next "milestone" her 60th birthday in May. We had big celebrations, she got loads of presents and again we had so much fun. Occasions like this were always tarnished though as we would always think that this will be the last time I will be able to do this, give her presents. Give her a hug and say happy birthday. You could see it in her eyes she always felt the same.
Mum went back into the "care and pain facility" - Neringah Hosiptal on the 15th June. It was only supposed to be for a week while they try to work out how to get rid of the fluid that other drugs were causing to build up. One week turned into two. And then on the 24th June (State of Origin 2 night) we got a call from the hospital. Mum wasnt doing well. She thought that the hospital were making her worse and that they were keeping her against her will. Dad had to work that night so I went in. I stayed the night, sitting beside her bed holding her hand. She didnt want to sleep for the next two nights and asked me to wake her up if she fell asleep. Which I did.
Dad stayed the next night. He was lucky in that he can pretty much work from anywhere so he would bring his laptop in to the hospital and work there. For the next six weeks dad and I would take it in turns to stay at the hospital. Change over would be at lunch time. My work were great and understood that I needed to be there for mum and Dad. I would go in for a few hours ever now and again but I was always so tired. We would keep mum company as she slowly got worse and worse to a point where she could no longer get out of bed.
Slightly off topic, there was a lady in the bed opposite mum. She had cancer in her lungs, bowl and breast. I had gotten to know the family quite well and looked after her when her family couldnt be there during the night. She passed away after three days of suffering. I just hoped that when mums time came it wouldnt be dragged out that long.
On the weekend of the 10th July, mums brother came over from New Zealand to see her. It was such a good weekend. Mum was still with us mentally. She recognised her sister in law even though they hadnt seen each other in well over 20 years. They stayed at the hospital during the day and then stayed in the city at night. It was good for dad to be able to get out and do things. My friend, Bel, came to visit to during that time as well. We had the whole family together and mum loved it. She was smiling and laughing. Good times. Great memories to have.
On the thursday Bel and I went shopping (retail therapy) Bel bought mum a huge bunch of flowers. Pink was her favorite colour. When mum saw them her face lit up. I cried. It is the last real memory I have of her and I am so glad that it is of her smiling and so happy.
That Friday night was the worst night since the first night I was there. It was my turn to stay but I didnt get any sleep. When I tried feeding her I stopped after the second mouthful, she wasnt responding, wasnt swallowing. Nothing. I would talk to her and she would look at me but I could see she just wasnt there. I said to dad that I thought the time was nearing. In my heart I wanted it to just be the drugs but my head was telling me maybe a week at most.
On the saturday night I told dad to call me if anything happened. I said to him to just say I needed to come in now. I knew if I heard the words I wouldnt be able to drive. The next morning dad called and asked how long I would be until I was in. It didnt click. I said I would have a shower and then I'd be in. It wasnt until I was half way in I realised what he had said. That was at about 9:30am.
Mum passed away at around 10:30am on the 19th July 2008. She was 60. Dad was waiting outside for me when I got there at about 10:40am. I knew straight away becasue he never waited outside for me. Right there in the middle of the road we cried. The I went into auto pilot. Dad asked if I wanted to see her. I did. She was still warm so she had only just passed away. She looked peaceful. I kissed her cheek and said goodbye. Then dad said something to me that has stayed with me througout everything. He said, you know its not really her, its just her body. Her spirit lives in us now. And he was and is right.
We packed everything and then came the even more tearful goodbyes to the nurses at the hospital. We had become such a fixture there they had coold our area "Camp Wiffen" It was all very emotional.
Mum was cremated on the 24th July 2008. I know she was at the service. I got up and spoke, I faultered to begin with but suddenly I could feel her standing behind me, she was with me. My brother swears that he could smell ciggarette smoke (yes she was a smoker a good 10 years ago) but no one else could.
I dont know why I feel the urge to write this. I guess I am still trying to make sense of it all.
Its one thing that I have often thought about, there are essentially two ways to "go" - Im not entirely sure which I would prefer... having your loved one 1) die quickly, you have no chance of saying goodbye but knowing that they didnt suffer any pain or 2) you have 14 odd months to say goodbye, tell them you love them but you watch as they deteriorate and slowly die, eventually dying, not peacefully as everyone seems to think but choking on the fluid that has been festering in their lungs.
I miss her. (I will add a photo soon of her)
