She waved at the nurses as we were welcomed into the building and I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Mum was rapidly deteriorating from secondary cancer and associated lymphangitis and we had been through the weekend from hell.
Six weeks prior she was told there was nothing more that could be done. We immediately tackled the 'hard stuff': resuscitation, end of life, funeral arrangements. That's who she was - Mrs Organised, a woman who got things done. Mum and I had some brilliant chats. There were lots of laughs and buckets of tears. I took the chance to tell her how much I loved her and how special she was.
I promised to look after her and help her to die at home. How naive. And yet so many of us do it without truly realising what this promise involves. After 3 weeks of sharing the overnight care of mum with my aunt and my stepfather I knew that we just weren't coping. Mums breathing was increasingly laboured and she often gasped for breath, panicking as she did so. In our final weekend at home I listened from the neighbouring bed as she struggled and groaned. The trips to the commode became the equivalent of running a marathon as her lungs refused to perform. The on call doctor could do very little and we felt lost and helpless.
In just 6 weeks my vibrant, fun, busy, animated mum had become a frail and exhausted woman for whom standing up from bed was an effort of monumental proportions.
We owe a debt of gratitude to the district nurse who suggested the hospice. We didn't want to make mum do anything that she didn't want to but to our amazement she gasped that she would like to go. She gave a frail but fulsome thumbs-up when we told her she had a bed there. And the smile that had all but gone from her mouth came back as the paramedics wheeled her out of the ambulance and into the hospice. Then I knew we had made the right decision.
From the warm smile of the nurse who welcomed us to the calm surroundings, our experience of the hospice has been a triumph of care and compassion for mum and the whole family. Looking back, I don't know how we even considered the idea that we could cope with such monumental responsibility of easing mum into the end of her life. We make these promises to loved ones without appreciating the repercussions. If I had my time again, I would make different choices.
As it stands, she is comfortable and peaceful. She is being given outstanding care and we are being swept up in the collective compassion as nurses check how we are, feed us and make up our beds to sleep alongside.
She is going to die. And very soon. But thanks to the hospice she's at peace. And so am I.
