It's been a week since Mum died. Just like that, so unexpected.
I'm going to try to make sense of it here.
Mum was doing well, really positive.
She fell, but seemed ok. Have discovered that she couldnt use her legs after that.
Monday
Last Monday she had problems breathing and was taken to A+E. She was responding, sitting in bed, with oxygen. It just seemed like a temporary problem of some kind. We stayed at A+E into the wee small hours, until they decided to keep her in.
Tuesday
Spoke to Dad on Tuesday morning. He said Mum was having problems swallowing. After work I left to visit her. She didn't look good. I sat with her and chatted. She didn't speak. She had her oxygen mask on. Lots of mucus, trying to spit. But she responded with sounds and laughed at some of the stories about the children. I left when visiting time started and some of the family arrived.
Wednesday
Went to work. Dad called to say Mum was being moved to a private room. It would be good if I could leave work early. I went after lunch. I met my wife and the children outside the hospital. Dad and my sister were sitting with Mum. She looked bad. She wasn't very responsive. She was uncomfortable.
My daughter, who is very close with her Nana, wondered what was wrong, and touched Nana's hand.
Close family came and went. Mum spoke from time to time. She was becoming more uncomfortable, especially in her chest. She couldn't shift the mucus. She said she wanted her babies there. She made a music joke (one of her things). She said she loved us.
We were all there except for one sister. We wanted to arrange for one of the injections to help with the mucus. I found it hard and went outside for some air. On the way out my sister arrived and saw I was upset. Dad came to see if I was OK. The phone rang, they were putting in a tube to suck out the mucus.
As we arrived back everyone was waiting outside. Then the nurses let us in together.
Something bad was going on. Mum didn't have her oxygen mask any more. Everyone was wailing. Mum was very still. I wasn't sure what was going on, though it was obvious. Just like that.
We stayed for an hour. Leaving was very very hard. I didn't want to leave. I really didn't want to leave Mum all alone.
I came home but wanted to go back. It was devastating. My wife told me she wished she had gone back after her Dad died, and she phoned the hospital for me.
I went back and sat, for an hour, talking to Mum and saying prayers. I would have stayed. I made myself leave at midnight. I felt quite peaceful after that.
