My mum was admitted to hospital in January 2025, three days before she passed away on the ward in front of me, my dad, and my sister. She was 78 years old, very frail, and had end-stage COPD. The day she was admitted, her ankles and feet were badly swollen. On the Sunday, she was finally given a proper bed on a ward before that, she had been lying on a bed in a hospital corridor. Once she was moved to the ward, she actually seemed fine in herself, still giving out orders like usual.
On the Monday, she again seemed alright and was even talking about possibly being discharged the next day. On the morning she died, she had an MRI scan, which she didnât like, but she still went in and had it done.
We visited her later that day, and she looked very yellow her face, arms, and hands. Not long after we arrived, my sister came too. Mum was still giving out instructions, telling her to write a shopping list because she was expecting to come home and wanted to start a healthy diet. She asked my sister to take her to the toilet. As she was leaving, she looked back at me and my dad and gave us a smile.
Then, just five minutes later, everything changed alarms went off and we thought she might have fallen. But my sister said Mumâs left arm gave way, then her whole body. All we saw was her mumbling, and we knew then that she was gone.The staff told us they wouldnât resuscitate her, as doing so would cause more harm due to her age and frailty.
We held her funeral in February. Weâve accepted that sheâs no longer with us, but what we havenât accepted is the way she passed. We still cry and get upset at times. Weâre trying to keep her memory alive by celebrating things like Motherâs Day, her birthday, and Christmas even though this year, those will be especially hard.
Hello @James1979,
I can see that youâre new to the community, so I wanted to say that I am so sorry for the loss of your mum that brings you here.
Iâm sure someone will be along to offer their support, but I wanted to share a few Sue Ryder resources with you that may help right now.
- Our Grief Guide self-help platform which has information, resources and advice to help you through your grief
- Our free Online Bereavement Counselling which is held via video chat
- Our Bereavement Information pages which can walk you through what you are going through.
You might also want to look at: Losing a parent - coping with the death of a parent | Sue Ryder
Thank you again for sharing â please keep reaching out and know that you are not alone.
Take care,
Alex
Hi James
I am so sorry for your loss. That sounds like an incredibly difficult thing to deal with. I hope you and your family are ok.
I totally understand what you mean regarding how your mum passed away. I had a similar situation with my mum - happy and cheery, then within a day, she was gone. It has been a really tough year coming to terms with it, I donât think I ever will fully come to terms and accept it, but it has got better. You are doing the right thing in that you are talking about it, have you managed to talk to a professional about it at all?
Take care,
Alice
Hi James
Firstly, Iâm so sorry for your loss.
I do understand how you must be feeling, as I lost my mum just before Christmas last year. I empathise with much of what you said. My mum was in and out of hospital since her diagnosis of Interstitial Lung Disease last February. We were never told the full extent of her disease and how quickly it could progress. She was being treated for a chest infection late Autumn and we thought she was on the mend. I even took her to sit out in the hospital garden. The following day, I went in to see her and she had deteriorated rapidly. She had developed sepsis and pneumonia. We were told to âprepare ourselvesâ and palliative care nurses were ushered in and offering cups of tea. A week to ten days later, by some miracle, she got through it and was discharged home. As a family, we were trying to pull together to provide round the clock care. It was hard going and exhausting, but we loved her so much and just dug deep.
Mum became so scared and it was so hard to reassure her, when we were equally as scared. I received a call in November from her GP, requesting a âfamily meetingâ to discuss the results of her recent blood tests. I knew instantly that wasnât going to be a good news visit. The GP arrived and told mum that she may only have six months to live. It was the most devastating news, and most days I went over, mum would be in tears.
I had been off work but had to return. My mind just wasnât on my job, all I wanted to do was to be with my mum. I was very close to just handing in my notice and going to live with her, so that I could be with her all the time to support her. I was attending Christmas work buffets and lunches, but just didnât want to be there. I went and worked from my mumâs house the day before she died. She was struggling with her breathing and my sister gave her liquid morphine that was prescribed for her. She slept for ages and seemed ok when she woke. I made her my famous omelette which she loved and she ate it all.
I woke up the next morning, to find a message from my brother. He said that mum wasnât good and didnât want to get out of bed. That was so unlike my mum, as she was always up with the larks I called my brother, asking to speak to my mum. She sounded breathless but calmed down a lot and spoke normally to me. I told her I had to work but would be over to see her in the afternoon. The last words she said to me were âIâll be ok babeâ. I then received a call from my brother, half an hour later. I immediately sensed the terror in his voice when he said, âweâre losing herâ I rang an ambulance then got in the car to drive the ten minutes to her house. I never anticipated the outcome, after all, my mum got through sepsis and pneumoniaâŚat 96 years old!
I tried to open her front door and couldnât. I couldnât, because my mothers body was on the floor in the hallway. My sister told me it was too late, that she tried CPR but it didnât work. I just remember screaming ânoâ and my sister grabbing hold of me. She pulled back the blanket that was covering my mum. I can still see her expression, one of terror. Her eyes were wide open and also her mouth. I just collapsed to the ground, telling my mum how sorry I was for not having been there with her. There were temporary traffic lights on my way to my mums house. If only they hadnât have been stuck on red, perhaps I would have made it. Itâs one of many âif onlysâ that have gone through my mind since she passed.
We hadnât prepared anything, we had been told six months. Death was also something that mum didnât want to talk about. I let ambulance know that my mum had passed, they said they would âstand downâ We were shocked, what do we do?, my mother was lying in the hallway and we were told not to move her until her death had been verified by a GP. He attended after three hours, then disappeared for another two hours as he was questioning whether the coroner needed notifying. In the meantime, my mum was still lying in the hallway. We were frantically contacting funeral parlours, two said they would come out but let us down. By 2pm, we couldnât stand it any longer and we moved my mums body, onto her bed in the living room. We had to use a bed sheet for a âmakeshift stretcherâ My mother died at around 09.30am and she had to lie on the floor for hours. We felt like there was no one to help us.
Losing my mother has and continues to be the most painful time of my life. The grief is so hard to bare but added to that is the pain of âhow she wentâ I liken it to having PTSD and have flashbacks daily of her lying on the floor of her hallway. I had a few months off work and Iâm now back. In all honesty, Iâm still finding it all so hard. I was a carer for my mum and always with her, helping her. I feel like my âanchorâ has gone and Iâm now adrift. I donât know where I belong anymore. Iâm also single, have no children, very few friends, so my support network is virtually non existent. Iâm hoping that sharing my story on here and listening to the storyâs of others will go some way to ease the pain.