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Wednesday, June 29, 2011

I Don't Wanna...

The summer hasn’t turned out as I’d hoped.  I had plan to work from home, take my kids to the pool and spend some quality time with my Grandmother and getting her out of the house.  Well, June 5th came and blew my little world apart.  A week later, my Grandmother was diagnosed with liver cancer, released from the hospital only to return the next day because she was bleeding.  A week after that we were told by the liver specialists they couldn’t treat my Grandmother until she was stronger.  However, since June 5th, she’s become completely dependent on me, my uncle and nurses only being able to feed herself.  Try to imagine having to help walk your grandmother or mother to the restroom, then help her sit on the toilet and then clean her up.  Hard.  Hard.  Hard.
Thursday, the same week, we enrolled my Grandmother into respite care at a nursing home while my aunt and uncle went out of town.  We all thought it was the best place since she needed round the clock care and I still had a job and a family to take care of.  She was in there one day and starting vomiting.  They tried to control it but were unable to especially when blood was present.  Let me jump back and state the liver specialists told us she would retain large amounts of fluids and swell, her mind would start to go from the toxins and she’d start to bleed because the blood wasn’t able to get through the liver and had to go somewhere. 
Saturday, she was rushed to the ER where I met her and was finally admitted that evening with a lower bowl obstruction.  They inserted a tube in her stomach to drain her allowing the obstruction to move on its own since surgery was not an option.  Monday, with the tube still running from her nose to her stomach, my Grandmother decided she didn’t want to fight any longer.  Her Dr also informed us the same day that even if she were to get stronger, which didn’t look likely, she was no longer a candidate for any cancer treatment.  She’s in the late stages and her body was shutting down. 
Currently, she’s enrolled in a hospice facility and we wait.  Funny party?  She looks better today than she has this entire time.  Seriously.  I told her she has to act goofy so people don’t think I’m lying.
But in all honesty, these past few weeks have been the hardest.  I became her power of attorney, allowing me to make sure her medical wishes are acknowledged.  This one time, I don’t want to be the adult. 
The best part has been talking with her.  She’s still coherent and her first night without machines, we talked the entire night.  Our time together has been great.  Seeing her as she is has given my heart some peace.  I’m okay with her leaving this world because I know it’s what she wants and her happiness without pain is all we’ve ever wanted.
Thank you.

PS.  She’s still alive.

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