Grasping at Straws

Spoke to two of Mom’s doctors today.

One gave me a catalogue of multiple system failures and a poor prognosis. He eventually spoke of hospice.

But today, for the first time, she was sleeping. Not drugged out. Not semi-conscious. Not in pain. She was resting quietly.

But. After her doctor left she asked if he’d gone, by name. Today she knew where she was. In the last two days she’s eaten more.

I know the prognosis is poor. She was malnourished and weak going in to this. Her heart was at forty percent of it’s function. She had ulcerative colitis, which the doc told me today, predisposes her to cirrhosis of the liver. I’d noticed that she looked yellowish for the past couple of months. It concerned me, but she had so much going on that I didn’t want to add to her problems.

I’m so not ready to lose her. I feel shattered as it is.

When you lose a family member you have to define your family again. We’ve lost so much of our family, my husband and I, that web have to decide what our family is going to be.

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