It’s been a while since my last post because I’ve lost both my parents. My mother unexpectedly died December 2 morning, and my father died December 4.
We had hospice take my dad to a hospice unit in a hospital, where they were better staffed and equiped to care for him. I believe that my mother felt so much better and relaxed that he was being taken care of, she just let go of her own struggle.
I spent the afternoon with my dad the next day and brought him a nice picture of mom. My sister and I saw he was suffering so much we told him mom went peacefully in her sleep and it was time for him to let go and be with her. It was the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do. Hours later he took his last breath.
He was cleaned and turned on his side when we visisted him, however when I asked when the last time he got his morphine was they responded 10:30 that morning, it was after 1:00 in the afternoon. When I pointed that out, the hospice nurse said he was resting comfortably. The man was given no food and water and could not speak or hardly even moan. He was far to weak to move even a finger.
I told her that just because he can’t tell you he’s in pain doesn’t mean he isn’t and she better go get some morphine for him unless she wanted me to do the scene from “Terms of Endearment” where Shirley McClaine has to scream for her daughters meds. She immediately got the meds and administered them to him. That made me wonder how they cared for him during the long night when we weren’t there. His mouth was so dry and cracked from lack of moisture. He couldn’t swallow they said but he could have someone wet a cloth and wipe the inside of his mouth and lips. We did it for him while we were there but what did they do? I don’t know, I’ll never know.