A Two Martini Knotty Grrl

Death Rattle.

I have heard it now and it's horrible.  This whole thing brings the circle of life closer to home for me.   I would be in the hospice room at times with my baby girl, who is at the beginning of her life, my mom, nearing the end of her life, and then myself, hopefully still in the first third of my life.  Very surreal. 

Another thing, I fed my mother the last solid foods that she ate on this planet last Thursday.  So the woman who nursed me on her breast, and gave me my first food, was the one whom I administered last foods to at the end of her life. 

I arranged for her remains to be cremated this morning.  I collected what remained at the hospice of her belongings.  One suitcase and a bunch of white trash bags full of crap.  It's all nothing compared to flesh and bone bonds. 

It's done.

My mom died tonight.  I had been at the hospice for almost two days, she was stable, and my kids needed me to come home.  They just didn't understand why "Mommy" wasn't home like normal.  Bean seems to be the most freaked out by all of this but I don't think he fully comprehends what has happened.  Bug will never know any different.  She is probably lucky.  Bug went with me all week but she would nap in the sling, wake up, and then I would leave.  I really don't think it'll leave a lasting effect on her, and it's not like I had a choice anyway.

I want to die fast.  Really fast.  Mom went into hospice residence on the 22nd, she died today on the 29th at a little after 6:30 pm.  It's been the longest eight days of my entire life.

Monday she was weak but basically fine except for the jaundice.  Tuesday she was still speaking some, but she could still eat some and let me know what she needed.  Wednesday she could get out of bed with assistance and use a wheelchair to get around to the bathroom and to smoke.  Thursday she couldn't get out of bed by herself, she was down to one word utterances, and she couldn't make it to the bathroom by herself.  Friday she was disoriented and not really responsive until she saw Bean.  I had to bring him because I was afraid that he would think that everyone who leaves in an ambulance just disappears.  Saturday she had a catheter and she was barely responsive except to her long estranged sister, and my kids.  I brought my "new" aunt home with me and got to spend some really great quality time with her.  We went back, my aunt and myself, Sunday morning about 10:45 am.  She had to take off about 1ish because she had a fairly long commute and a job to get back to that night.  I stayed.  Went to dinner with Froggie and the kids because I had missed them and I needed to eat.  By the time we got back Mom had turned down a sharp incline.  I kept Bug with me and stayed the night because they didn't think she was going to make it.  Frog brought Bean to me in the morning and we went out to grab a cup of Joe and to try and get the kids to nap.  He eventually had to take them home because a hospice residence just isn't equipped to deal with a whacked out 3 year old along with a very active 10 month old.  Frog went home and I stayed.  I finally packed up and come home at almost 2 pm because there had been no change and the kids were losing it at home and just wanted their mama.  I was going to go back if there was any change.  I called the nurse on duty at 6:30.  She said that she was the same as when I had left and she would call with any changes.  I called my estranged brother, since he called me for the first time in years yesterday, and gave him a status report.  Then I got the call at 6:39 that my mom had just died.

I just sat on the kitchen floor and sobbed while my poor son kept telling me that "it would be okay" and "that I was sad" and "he'd fix it."  How do you explain any other way then I did, which is to say that sometimes when people, even mommies and daddies, are sad they cry to make themselves feel better? 

Then I couldn't get a hold of my brother again for almost an hour and this just isn't news you leave on voice mail.  I finally did and he's wrecked.   Not as guilty feeling as me though I think.  I wasn't there when she died.  I didn't want her to be alone.  But my mom was most definitely her own stubborn self and it doesn't surprise me that she waited until she was alone to let go.  I'm following her wishes but I also didn't go see her corpse.  I know that what was left wasn't my mother.  Just another body with the spirit and energy out of it.  This also means that I have to pick up her effects in the morning.  Frog is actually taking off of work to help me out tomorrow and I am eternally grateful.

I needed to blog this entire time and I didn't learn until today that the residence has wireless access, so there's a lot that's not here, but I'm sure it'll all come at it's own pace now.

Residence.

Mom told the hospice nurse that she'd like to be in the "residence" instead of here at home.  She said that watching her dad die at home was horribly hard, and she doesn't want that for us.  There's a 2 to 3 week waiting period for the "residence." 

She keeps talking about Art Buchwald.  To me that's sort of like people thinking that every autistic kid is rainman incarnate.  Liver failure isn't something most people walk away from.  I can't find anyone who is sane that says it anyway.

I wanted to move.  I didn't want her to die.  Frog is telling me not to put all this on my shoulders, but where the hell else would it go?  Bean and Bug went to the movies with my mom and me tonight.  It was so sweet to see how Bean kept asking if Gramma was going to the movies with us, and then once we got there he pulled seat next to him down while he asked her to sit next to him.  If she goes quickly he may not remember her at all.  Bug never will. 

In addition to everything else, I've got to find out what happens if she dies before we get resolution with the IRS.   This sucks.

Delurk, dammit.

I don't think I've kept anyone with my sporadic posting as of late, but if you're there let me know, k?  Thanks.

The time draws near.

Hospice comes out tomorrow to set up for caring for my mom.  No matter how bad our relationship may have been, or is, I really don't want her to die.  The hospice lady said that the doctor doesn't ask them to begin services unless they think the time that the patient has left is 6 months or less.  My mom is "no longer in active treatment."  Fuck.  Fuck.  FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  The hospice lady also said that you never really know and sometimes patients live longer.  My mom is already turning yellow again from liver failure.  The last surgery didn't work.  I don't think people live long when their livers aren't functioning.  I'm off to google it and possibly depress myself even further.

Frog and I have to come together or this is going to be a million times harder for me.  I hope he knows that I really need the wonderful, caring part of him to be there for me right now.

Heeeee's back.

Just showed up and scared the shit out of me.  Yikes.

Abortion and departures.

Frog has harangued me, and pestered me, and yelled at me, and gotten plain old nasty with me, for months now, about abortion.  Mainly it comes down to the fact that I am pro-choice, and he is not.  Long story short, I am not about to tell other women what to do with their bodies, and he claims that it takes rights away from "the man."

He starts on this again tonight, while we have one of his friends over, and the friend gets so tired of this that he goes home.  Frog continues with the yelling at me and I told him that maybe he needed to decide to agree to disagree, or to make another choice.  He mentioned leaving.  Then he asked who would raise his boy and whether I would teach him that "being gay is okay."  (Notice both that he only mentioned his son, not his daughter, and that his homophobia is more than latent these days.)  I told him that the I would keep the kids, and that "being gay" isn't a choice.  He packed up his laptop and left the room.  I figured this was some stunt. 

Apparently I am wrong.  He is gone.  When he left he didn't take many clothes.  I have no idea where he is going, but his car is gone, and I have chained the door.  The nearest thing that I can figure is that whatever woman he has knocked up, causing all of these discussions at my house, will be getting an 11 p.m. knock on the door.

I am amazingly calm.  I may fall apart tomorrow.  Who knows.

Decompression successful.

Vacation out of town and lots of fun times with relatives.  Froggie got a new car, it's really very nice, and the drive home went really quickly.  Must arrange finances for new year and then house.  Plans are loose to try and sell this year.  Punch out important.

Happy New Year!