I lost my mother this week. She died gasping for breath in a hospice facility she had entered less than hour before. The fact that she even made it from the hospital to the facility was a miracle. The nurses in the ER where she had been for 5 days warned me she may not survive the 10 minute ride, so deteriorated were her lungs. But made it she did.
But let’s back up. I got a call from the assisted living facility where she resided last Friday afternoon informing me she had been taken to the ER as she was having trouble breathing. I was flat on my back with an acute muscle spasm in my lower back. I tried calling her, no answer. I texted her, no reply. I gave it 24 hours and tried again. She responded with “I’ll be fine. It’s just pneumonia. I’m just pissed I can’t get a room”. Her being “pissed” was a good sign. It means she was herself; angry, bitter, combative.
But She was 82 and pneumonia is nothing to squawk at. Sunday I called the hospital and got through to the attending nurse. She said she had double pneumonia and they were giving her heavy anti biotics and oxygen. I waited.
monday morning she text bombed me scared. Help! I called and she answered but was gasping for breathe and I heard a nurse grab the phone and inform me to call back in 5 when they got her 02 levels back up. I did and the nurse answered. He told me she was very very sick and that she was in respiratory failure and that the bipap machine was the only thing keeping her alive.
what the actual fuck
He then told me I should come. I told him it was a 12 hour drive and I would bail within the hour. He said we are respecting her DNR and would try to keep her alive til I got there. Even though she was combative and trying to rip the bipap off at every opportunity.
so I loaded up the truck gobbled massive amounts of ibuprofen and my wife and flew like the wind. We got there at 10 pm.
I want to comment here on the state of medical care in the US. The ER was like a scene from the church in Soylent green. At least 200 people in various states of disrepair in chairs, on the floor, slumping, coughing, bleeding and moaning. It was chaos. There were two beefy armed guards with a sign that said Start Here. We gave them our id and they went in back, came out, and escorted through the locked doors into the treatment area. The walls were lined with gurneys, more chairs filled with sick humans. Alarms and scurrying medical staff running around. They left us at bay 11 and there she was. Grey with huge contraption strapped to her head forcing oxygen into her lungs. The alarm was pinging on her monitor. Her 02 was 85.
someone finally saw us and came in and said they were her nurse for this shift. I asked for a quick run down. She told us the same. The double pneumonia was severe, her lungs were failing, the bipap was the only way to get enough oxygen into her. The Dr wanted to intubate but her DNR was explicit.
she adjusted the mask and her 02 went back up to 95. She awoke and saw us. We clasped hands and I tried to understand her through the mask. She was soooo miserable. The more she tried to talk, the more her 02 dropped. The oxygen had severely dried out her sinuses and lips and she was pleading for ice. I forced a nurse to get us some ice and a spoon and I fed her a few chips at a time. Each time sliding the mask off and watching her 02 drop. This was not good. She slipped in and out of consciousness and we called it a night.
The next morning was no different. Remove the bipap and her 02 dropped into the 30’s in less than a minute. I asked if they had a palliative care nurse. This angel arrived shortly there after and we talked. She recommended a local hospice close by.
She talked and explained to my mom what was happening. She was very very kind. My mom understood that the choice was to pass as peacefully as possible or stay hooked to machines. The machine option was unacceptable.
She managed to tell us that she wanted to come back as a butterfly. We told her that was pretty cool. The picture in my post is the entrance to the hospice facility. She didn’t see it. But we did. Rest in peace mom.