Hi Ell
Yeah it is really hard.
We were a very close family so really only mum, dad and myself. Dad seems to be doing okay. I think he is taking comfort in knowing that she is no longer in pain as for the past 2, maybe even three years she had severe pain with her back in addition to the COPD. The doctors put it down to Osteporosis, She ended up having an injection daily for two years to try and build the bones. I cannot say it seemed to make any difference although, if she did not have them maybe it would have been even worse. I think I am doing sort of okay, Just cannot stop thinking of mum and how much I want her back, things I could of and should have said, Things I could of and should of done but reading the various posts, I think we are all going through that.
Barrie
We are barrie. It’s natural.
My mum had shrunk 3 inches over the years with her arthritis. She was always 5 feet 2 then she had the first knee replacement and she was 5 feet 1, the second knee replacement brought her down to 5 feet.
We used to call her the incredible shrinking woman. My daughter was 10 when she started looking down at mum. I’m five foot 9!
Yeah I was helping mum choose a coffee table at about 16:00 on New years eve. At about 22:00 I decided to go up to bed and mum was tiered and dad was just watching TV. At around 01:00 New years day, dad gave me a shout to say that mums oxygen sats were low and he was going to call an ambulance. I got out of bed and mum was struggling to breath. I was watching out for the ambulance whilst dad was getting some belonging together (Thinking she would only be in hospital a few days) paramedics came out and to be honest I was not too confident with them, I was keep saying that mum was a retainer, she retained CO2 if given too much oxygen. She went to the ambulance and I remember saying to her that I would see her at the hospital. Dad went in the ambulance and I followed. Got to hospital and she was unconscious. They told us that her acid levels were high and they had a mask on her trying to get them to an okay level. She never recovered and passed away at 06:30 on New years morning. I just could not and still cannot believe how quickly things turned, but I know everyone on the forum understands how quick things can change. One minute everything is great, the next minute everything turns upside down.
As shaun once said in a post ( and it’s always stayed with me)
Life was normal until it wasnt.
And that about sums it up.
I’ve seen it so much in my life and my career ( I work in the emergency seervices) but because its my mum I can’t believe nor accept.
Hi Barrie
You have shock and some ptsd most likely. It is very difficult to process the here one minute and gone the next. Plus being there and expecting to see your mom arrive at the hospital but getting a different result - it is a lot to shoulder. I wish there were mental coping exercises to help yours (our) minds work through this illogical outcome.
My dad was in a different situation entirely because he was literally fine in all regards. Looked 20 years younger - no wrinkles, gray mixed with his regular hair, no joint issues, still playing tennis and working in his mid 70’s. Then he died in his sleep! I am still baffled by the call that I got from his friend (my mom was too distraught to call us so she called her friends). I was waiting for them to call me to make plans for father’s day and instead I am told terrible news that my dad had passed away in his sleep! It will never make any sense to me.
Ell
Ell
Your situation is more shocking than most. Although my mum was very active and humourous I can look back and remember how tired she was starting to look. A bit of make up and mum always looked radiant but those last couple of months she was always so tired looking and took days to get round to things that she always got straight on with previously.
I know she put a good act on for me but my daughter and partner tell me how she used to flop down in her chair and not get up again when I was out. Problem is when she heard my key in the door she would start flying round like a lunatic and thats why I’m struggling with it all. She was obviously much more I’ll than I had any idea of.
To think that your dad was playing tennis, working and looking so good makes things very hard to accept ell
Hi Cheryl
Yes it is. All of the memories are of a radiant person.
I am sure you and your family went through the same struggle with your dad. I often wonder how your mom dealt with that? Any idea?
Ell
To be honest ell. My dad was in remission for non Hodgkin’s lymphoma and had suffered 3 heart attacks
Chemo and radio therapy had taken its toll on him and he looked dreadful for a 53 year old man
It was no real surprise when he suffered his fatal heart attack. He wasnt in good shape.
If was still a huge shock but no real surprise
We have to accept that our bodies are amazing and complicated. It’s amazing that we are alive and can function at all when you think about it. It’s complicated because so many things have to work in a certain way at a certain time. So many problems can be masked because they don’t affect vital functions and when you think about it, the person we love and know so well is their brain and our bodies have to keep that organ working at all costs. I’ve said it before but I often consider that death is only ever a few seconds away. Despite our body’s amazing ability to keep running when things break down and even repair itself, in the end it can boil down to one vital part that can let the whole body down. In the case of my mum, that was her heart and no amount of medical care can fix a heart that has failed. It makes me sad to think about how her life was taken away because of one small but extremely important part of her body. A part that I never saw failing, a part that must operate continuously for many decades. She never saw it failing either. I expected her health to decline visibly. I think it did to some extent but not enough to cause me to worry about her imminent death.
I don’t mean to sound clinical or talk about biology but sometimes I just try to make sense of what’s happened by looking at it objectively. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn’t.
Ell
Your situation does sound horrendous and really shocking. Although it was a huge shock to me, mum had been unwell for a few years and had already had several hospital admissions, because of that we probably become a bit complacent and just expect it to be like every other time. In hospital for a few days and then out.
Cheryl
It is strange isn’t it. Like your mum, if a nurse or doctor was ever coming around, mum would always pull herself around and look really healthy whilst they were here, once they left then she would fall back into a bit of a tired look.
Shaun
We need a viability meter so we know the useful life left on our insides
The body is so odd in that it over-reacts to external stimuli - a paper cut or a loud sound, but gives you no information about the most important organs until they are nearly worn out.
Ell
Shaun
You’re right. The difference between life and death is just a moment in time isnt it.
My mum also was very close to heart failure so even if she survived her brain bleed I dont think she would have gone on much longer but we just dont know do we. The fact that your mum and my mum never saw this coming makes it very scary.
Very true ell
I have no intention of being like that barrie! I’m taking all the help I can when the time comes
Mum and I didn’t see it coming too. Life feels rather meaning less without my Mum. I know that will one day change.
I hope so daffy because that’s how I feel. X
Ell, That begs the question, do we really want to know how much time we have on the clock? That’s open for debate. Of course there are many things which are treatable if caught early. Cancer is an evil and insidious example of that. So many things have no symptoms until it’s too late. Doesn’t bear thinking about.
Cheryl, would you want to know what’s coming? I can’t make my mind up on that one. Of course given the choice I’d rather go out with a bang than slowly fade away. Unfortunately we don’t get to choose though!
It just fills me with sadness thinking back on how our loved ones were robbed of their existence and their enjoyment of this world.
I’ve had one of those days which has been extremely bitter and extremely sweet. I have been so happy and so sad at the same time. Weirdest emotion ever.
I have mentioned this before how while I was on holiday with my mum that she lost her camera and despite my best efforts I couldn’t find it. We even posted on one of the island’s facebook noticeboards that we were looking for it. Didn’t get any replies though so I’d written off the idea of ever getting it back. All the photos she’d taken this year, 3 holidays plus loads of other stuff I thought I’d never see again. It’s been eating away at me for months.
Today I went back on facebook at found another noticeboard for a different island. The reason I hadn’t looked there before was that she had said she had lost it elsewhere. I scrolled down and there it was, a photo of the camera and case. Mum had left her camera at a restaurant the week before she died and the next day it was in the local police station and it was posted on facebook. I felt so stupid that I hadn’t seen it earlier and half expected it to no longer be there. I was also gutted because she could have honestly had it back before she died. Imagine my shock. It turns out that they still have it. I was in tears. So you can see, extremely bitter sweet, I am so happy and so sad at the same time. I so want to see the photos, they mean so much to me now.
Anyway, I thought I’d share that, unusually happy news!
Really pleased you managed to get it back Shaun. We were never a family to take many photos. Now I wish we had been. I am sure you will enjoy looking through the photos at some point.