jaguarundi
Well-known member
Mum was in her special chair as usual. She never left it anymore, and didn't struggle to do so anymore, either. The screaming and shouting she would do when finding herself strapped into it by it's special straps had gone a long while ago. It stopped her falling out of the chair now as much as preventing her from getting up, wandering around and falling over.
She was mumbling a bit earlier on, about Lil, where was Lil, she was out again and she would be in trouble, then moaned for her Ma. Her sister and and mother - dead since the 1970's. Then she nodded off, and slept, though not very peacefully, her head was slanted off to one side. I did the cleaning around her, and she woke up, and I thought she might want a cup of tea, so I made one, and let it cool to luke warm, before spooning it into her mouth, with a dessert spoon. Very slowly, a drop at a time, she swallowed a little bit of it, then turned her head away like a child refusing to be fed. The last drops trickled off her chin and I wiped them off.
Suddenly she came to herself, just a little, those flashes so very rare now, and said 'that was lovely'. Then she took my hand and held it to her face. 'Thanks love,' she said, quite clearly. 'eh, you know - I do love you.' Then she was gone again, like the sun on a cloudy day, slipping behind the clouds.
She was so very much weaker now, she had gone very deaf and was blind. Her internal organs, her brain, eaten away by Alzheimers'. Because that is what it does. I went home, cried a bit, got on with stuff, had a drink or two with my dinner. Because I knew it ws getting very close.
At 10:30 that night - a phonecall. It was the SAMU (emergency services medics), phoning from my parents' house. They needed me to speak to my father. I could hear him, screaming and shouting in the background. The medic explained that Mum had collapsed, was unconscious and could not be woken. They were taking her to the nearest hospital, but feared that ... They thought father might be unfit to drive. I heard him shouting 'I've seen ******* dead bodies before, I don't ******* care if she might be dead, why would it ******* upset me?' in the background. I hoped the medics grasp of English was not so good that they would understand what he was saying.
He wanted to drive to the hospital, I had drunk the wine with my meal, so he came to my house, picked me up. I can do the drive to the hospital in 20 minutes at a pinch, it took us nearly 40, he wouldn't risk speeding. Maybe he just didn't want to get there. I don't know.
We got there, the ambulance had arrived, but they woudn't let us into the the ER room until they had examined her. I saw the chief medic - thanked him. He used to be a nurse at the hospital, I recognised him. Said he was kind - he was very kind. He clasped my hand, warmly, wished me well, glanced at father. Nothing I could say, really.
It took a while. Father was furious, wasting his time, but I just avoided his ideas about ringing the bell, complaining. He did it himself in the end and a nurse came, annoyed, said they weren't quite ready and would be back shortly, gave me a poisonous look, as if I could do anything with him. Finally they let us into the room. The doctor was from francophone Africa - Senegal I would guess. Father is a bit - sometimes a lot - racist, but although he was - taught, he didn't insult the man. The doctor was kind, explained to me that they felt there was nothing they could do, they were not going to put her into intensive care, just - make her comfortable. Was that OK? I never asked father, just said yes. How can you wish to keep someone you love in a state like that? Even if you don't ant to lose them? I had already lost her. Gradually, drop by drop, day be day, the person she was leaking away, like water. I asked him how long - he couldn't say. Maybe hours, maybe a couple of days.
I kissed her - I massaged her feet - pressed her hand. Nothing. Father was his usual self. I explained - they say she is likely not to recover consciousness. There is nothing they can do. 'Well, no point in staying then, is there?' he said.
Why did I not say that I would stay? I could have called my friend K and told her - she would have come, there and then or maybe first thing in the morning. I couldn't think, couldn't think any more at all. So we left. It was a huge moon, a red moon, I remember seeing it bright and low and huge on the horizon. Very beautiful. It was after midnight, everything was quiet.
I went to bed, tried to sleep, couldn't, stayed awake for a long time then dozed. Woke up and at 8 in the morning and telephoned the hospital straight away. 11th of May 2011. They said she had died at 7am.
She was mumbling a bit earlier on, about Lil, where was Lil, she was out again and she would be in trouble, then moaned for her Ma. Her sister and and mother - dead since the 1970's. Then she nodded off, and slept, though not very peacefully, her head was slanted off to one side. I did the cleaning around her, and she woke up, and I thought she might want a cup of tea, so I made one, and let it cool to luke warm, before spooning it into her mouth, with a dessert spoon. Very slowly, a drop at a time, she swallowed a little bit of it, then turned her head away like a child refusing to be fed. The last drops trickled off her chin and I wiped them off.
Suddenly she came to herself, just a little, those flashes so very rare now, and said 'that was lovely'. Then she took my hand and held it to her face. 'Thanks love,' she said, quite clearly. 'eh, you know - I do love you.' Then she was gone again, like the sun on a cloudy day, slipping behind the clouds.
She was so very much weaker now, she had gone very deaf and was blind. Her internal organs, her brain, eaten away by Alzheimers'. Because that is what it does. I went home, cried a bit, got on with stuff, had a drink or two with my dinner. Because I knew it ws getting very close.
At 10:30 that night - a phonecall. It was the SAMU (emergency services medics), phoning from my parents' house. They needed me to speak to my father. I could hear him, screaming and shouting in the background. The medic explained that Mum had collapsed, was unconscious and could not be woken. They were taking her to the nearest hospital, but feared that ... They thought father might be unfit to drive. I heard him shouting 'I've seen ******* dead bodies before, I don't ******* care if she might be dead, why would it ******* upset me?' in the background. I hoped the medics grasp of English was not so good that they would understand what he was saying.
He wanted to drive to the hospital, I had drunk the wine with my meal, so he came to my house, picked me up. I can do the drive to the hospital in 20 minutes at a pinch, it took us nearly 40, he wouldn't risk speeding. Maybe he just didn't want to get there. I don't know.
We got there, the ambulance had arrived, but they woudn't let us into the the ER room until they had examined her. I saw the chief medic - thanked him. He used to be a nurse at the hospital, I recognised him. Said he was kind - he was very kind. He clasped my hand, warmly, wished me well, glanced at father. Nothing I could say, really.
It took a while. Father was furious, wasting his time, but I just avoided his ideas about ringing the bell, complaining. He did it himself in the end and a nurse came, annoyed, said they weren't quite ready and would be back shortly, gave me a poisonous look, as if I could do anything with him. Finally they let us into the room. The doctor was from francophone Africa - Senegal I would guess. Father is a bit - sometimes a lot - racist, but although he was - taught, he didn't insult the man. The doctor was kind, explained to me that they felt there was nothing they could do, they were not going to put her into intensive care, just - make her comfortable. Was that OK? I never asked father, just said yes. How can you wish to keep someone you love in a state like that? Even if you don't ant to lose them? I had already lost her. Gradually, drop by drop, day be day, the person she was leaking away, like water. I asked him how long - he couldn't say. Maybe hours, maybe a couple of days.
I kissed her - I massaged her feet - pressed her hand. Nothing. Father was his usual self. I explained - they say she is likely not to recover consciousness. There is nothing they can do. 'Well, no point in staying then, is there?' he said.
Why did I not say that I would stay? I could have called my friend K and told her - she would have come, there and then or maybe first thing in the morning. I couldn't think, couldn't think any more at all. So we left. It was a huge moon, a red moon, I remember seeing it bright and low and huge on the horizon. Very beautiful. It was after midnight, everything was quiet.
I went to bed, tried to sleep, couldn't, stayed awake for a long time then dozed. Woke up and at 8 in the morning and telephoned the hospital straight away. 11th of May 2011. They said she had died at 7am.
