Hello,
Before I start I would like to say that this post is meant to help those trying to cope with the dying process of a loved one. I do not want to upset anyone but I feel that had I fully understood what was going to happen I would have dealt with things differently.
I had searched the internet for something similar to what I've written below and could only find the same old ' they just fall into a deep sleep' articles. That's not what happened for us. I feel had I been better prepared maybe I would be coping better. I want to help explain how things could be so that you can make your own decisions when you get to that stage and the mistakes I feel I made.
My beloved Mum died from Pancreatic Cancer last Wednesday night. She was 61 and we had only known about the cancer for 4 weeks. Up until the Jaundice, she still appeared realativley 'well'. Within a few days she went downhill very quickly. She was taken into hospital with a blockage in the bile duct on the Friday night and by the Wednesday she had died. This is not the course of all Pancreatic Cancers, this is just how our Mum's progressed. Far too quickly.
I managed to spend the Saturday with her when she was fairly lucid but as the liver began to fail she would only talk nonsense and by the Monday there were only seconds worth of comments that made any sense. She began to lose control of her bowels and my sister and I took on that role of clearing up the mess. It was undignified for her and I hated seeing my Mum like that. She somewhat reverted back to being like a baby, unable to control her actions almost signing when she needed water and being washed by nurses without registering what they were doing. I found these small details hugely distressing mainly out of wanting to preserve her dignity.
At this point we were talked to about her going to the hospice across the road. My sister and I had a look and it felt a much nicer atmosphere than a hospital ward. But ridiculous worries went through my mind. The short walk to get her there would be undignified. People would stare at her in the bed. The walk across the road may be cold. Would it be too unsettling to move her again? She'd already moved wards and beds several times within the hospital. So we agreed to move her to a side room within the hospital ward itself. I also knew that if my Mum heard the word 'hospice' she'd have known she was dying, and I didn't want her to know. This was our first mistake.
Hospitals are suprisingly unprepared to deal with the dying. Their whole goal is to make people well, to cure and to send people on their way. Though all the nurses and doctors were extremley kind it felt that when it came to dying no-one, including us, really knew how to deal with it. The hospices goal on the other hand is to care for the dying with the utmost sensitivity and compassion. Both for your loved one and the realitives stood at the bedside. It's what they do, day in day out. I wish we'd taken my mum there. I think that would have made the next stage far more bearable.
The next mistake we made was drugs. By the Tuesday night she had two iv morphine needles in her arms. Sorry, I don't know what theyre called. But they administered a constant stream of morphine, in theory, to take away any pain. The doctor had taken us aside and talked about a stronger version they could give her that would wipe out any pain but could speed the dying process up. I was so against it. I didn't want to send her off any quicker like some pet put out of its misery. But I also believed when she looked in distress I would ask for it. I didn't want her in any pain.
The whole of Wednesday she was very quiet. No food or drink. In a deep sleep most of the day without barely saying a word. It was calm and after popping home for an hour to see my children all was calm when I returned. After 5 minutes of being back there, the dying began. She waited for me to return.
It started with what can only be described as a big horrifying growl. Like something from a horror movie. She called out my name several times and begged us to let her leave. She was incredibly distressed. Writhing about, moaning, struggling. The nurses came in to change her position and I remember the roll they made her do on her side. Her face squished against the pillow. I tried to make some space for her face and stupidly we'd left her glasses on which kept digging into her. I cupped her face in my hands and asked her to just focus on me. Look at me, everything will be okay. And so she did. She stared at me with the fear of god in her eyes the whole time. I simply held her face in my hands and sshhed her like a baby. It felt like God or whoever was there waiting for her was literally ripping her out of her body. This horrifying scene continued for about 55 minutes. I'd forgotten about the stronger drug to calm her. I didn't ring the bell for the nurses to help. I think they thought we wanted to be alone with our mum. I will never forget that look in her eyes and it haunts me. I should have asked for more drugs. I should have put her out of her misery. But all i could think of was holding her beautiful face and trying to keep her safe and calm.
After nearly an hour the nurse did pop in and witness the mayhem. She gave her the stonger drug and my Mum took her last breath 5 minutes later.
I feared a hospice but i realise now that would have been the best option. And I feared that drug but I now realise that would have been much kinder.
I know she's in no pain now and hopefully with my Grandad somewhere beautiful. I just wish her passing could have been more gentle for her.
I hope this account can give you knowledge of the other side of dying to what we usually read and hope that no-one ever has to go through what we did watching our mum die like that. If your loved one is still lucid try and have the conversation about what they truly want at the end.
I knew it was never going to be easy. But i now realise the hospice could have made it a tiny bit easier. x
