Members SRamsamy Posted September 24, 2010 Members Report Share Posted September 24, 2010 I have never posted on a message board before, but as more time passes since the death of my parents, I feel alone and lost, like I am the only one who has to deal with this. My mom was 50 when she started to have severe shoulder pain. She worked a very physical job, so her doctors chalked it up to a pulled muscle. It never got better, in fact the pain worsened so much that she couldn't breath without being in pain. The doctor finally came to the conclusion it must be pneumonia and gave her antibiotics. A month passed and no change and the pain kept getting worse. Finally in early March 2009, she went to the hospital and demanded that she was not leaving until she got a catscan. The scan revealed non-small cell lung cancer, and it was very progressed. I didn't have time to be angry with the misdiagnosis because my mother was so distraught and scared. Her mother, who was literally her best friend (they were inseperable and didn't do anything without the other), had passed away five years earlier from small cell lung cancer. I can't tell you how it feels to sit there and listen to someone you love cry and be so scared to die and know that there is nothing you can say to ease their worry. I remember that night when she called me to come over, we cried together and I told her that we would fight it together. I was 22 and my husband was living overseas at the time. It only got worse from the diagnosis. The reason for the shoulder pain was that the cancer metastasized to the bones. It was the bone cancer that was hardest because of the pain. The pain was incredible, I've never seen someone have to endure so much pain, she couldn't even sleep. Morphine pills stopped working and she was upgraded to delodin and finally methadone. I remember having to wake up through the night every four hours to give her a shot of pain medication while she slept so the pain wouldn't wake her. I have two sisters and a brother, but they all lived out of town. My father was also ill so he couldn't help much either. Because the pain got so bad, her pallaltive nurses recommended she go stay in hospice. The doctors, nurses and facilities there were incredible, and I have nothing but love in my heart for those at hospice who cared so well for my mother. I would go up to hospice before and after work, often staying the night. She got worse and worse and started drifting in and out of consciousness. It was a double edged sword because if she didn't take enough methadone, the pain was incredible, but if she took too much, she was hallucinating and couldn't communicate properly. The strain on my heart was incredible to have to watch her, I stopped eating, I stopped being social, all I could do was worry. The whole time, she was so scared to die at 50, she refused to hear any timelines on her cancer, but it was clear she was going quick. After 2 months in hospice, she wanted to go home. I knew hospice could care for her better than i could at home, but I couldn't bear to ignore her wishes, so we had a hospital bed delivered to my parents house and brought her home. My father stayed with her during the day and pallative nurses came quite often. I was run ragged with caring for my mom and working and just trying to keep it together. I popped in quickly before work to say hello to my mom and make sure all the medication was filled when I came into thier house and my mom looked dazed and wouldn't respond to me. I called my dad who was sleeping and we called a nurse. The nurse came and I was now late for work so I turned to my dad and told him that I had to go and call me to let me know how she was. The nurse stopped me and told me to call and tell my job I couldn't come in. She said my mother had gone into a delirium that is common right before someone passes away. I didn't cry, I didn't get upset, I went over picked up the phone and called my sibblings and told them to come home. We decided to keep my mom at the house because we knew she prefered to die at home. The whole family came out, my three siblings, their spouses and children, my mothers brothers and friends and my husband flew home. For two days my mother stayed in her delirium so I decided it was a good idea for everyone to say their goodbyes. My younger sister and I sat with my mom first. As she started to talk to my mother, my mom woke up. Just like she woke up from a nap. She was disoriented, but herself. She had no idea why the whole family was there. We spent the next few days spending time with her. It was her 51st birthday that weekend and the whole family was there to celebrate. My mom even went to play poker with her friends (a much loved hobby that she would do every weekend) Monday came around and everyone needed to get back to work now that mom was ok for a little bit. As soon as they left, she fell back into the delirium. For the first day my husband and I tried to care for her but it was too much. We put her back in hospice. I remember her crying when I tried to explain she had to go back. She never really woke up after that. She went into hospice but she wasn't my mom. She screamed for 2 days and had to be restrained to her bed. She finally passed away in hospice on June 23 2009, one week after her 51st birthday and four days after my 23rd birthday.It was the screaming and having to restrain her in those final days that sits with me, that keeps me up at night. She was so scared to die, everystep of the way, I never got a chance to see the fear ease.Caring for my mom was so emotionally straining that I was left empty. My parents had been together for 25 years. For the later half of those years, my father suffered from Cirrosis of the Liver and Hepititis C. He had been on the liver transplant list for years. Because of his illness, he couldn't work, so my mom picked up most of the slack. So when mom was diagnosed with cancer, and died first, it was hard on everyone, especially my dad. After mom died, instead of staying to take care of my dad, I selfishly went to overseas for 5 months to spend time with my husband and take stock of what happened. I returned in December 2009, and spent a sad but lovely christmas with my dad and my siblings. My husband and I were staying with my father and we were getting along great, he was so happy to have me back. But he was very sad, as was I. But life seemed to continue, it had been six months, and we felt the worst was over. On January 7 2010, my dad and I went out for the day. Shopping, lunch, nice father daughter time. We came home and I cooked diner. He didn't eat cause he had stomach pain. His chest became tight, and I immediately called an ambulance. My dad died of cardiac arrest in the emergency room that night. The funeral procedure was still fresh, so I called the family and we put my dad to rest.I thought I was fine. This sort of stuff happens, and often it's a lot worse than my story. But I just feel that as time goes on it gets worse instead of getting better. My parents were 51 and 59 when they died. And my morality is ever present. The memories of watching death up close and failing to stop it, doesn't leave you easily. I quite simply miss them more than anything.I don't know if people will take the time to read through my story, but it was theruputic to write it down. If you've suffered a similar experience, how did you cope? Any words of comfort or advise?My heart goes out to anyone who has lost a loved one, because it's one of the hardest things to endure. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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