Wednesday, 9 November 2011
Mum hasn't eaten for a week or two, hasn't drank for 5 days. When weighed a couple of weeks ago she was 4 stone 9 pounds (65 pounds) but will be a lot less now. She's permanently bedridden and mostly asleep, a bundle of skin and bone. Now and then she makes a little "ooh" noise and shifts her limbs slightly, once in a while she opens her sunken eyes but they stare blankly and briefly ahead before closing again. She was 92 on Sunday, I don't think my "Happy Birthday Mum!" registered at all. The doctor has prescribed Oromorph to reduce pain/agitation. Mum lies on an air mattress and the care home staff turn her every 4 hours to reduce the chance of pressure sores but she is starting to get red patches on the boniest parts of her body. I've been advised that the end is probably days rather than weeks away, everyone is amazed at what a tough old bird she is. Surprising how exhausting waiting for the inevitable is. I wake up in the early hours most nights and am dragging myself through the day at work, mobile always in reach in case the home calls and says its time to say goodbye. I wish it were over.