She was in hospice care, at home, succumbing to Congestive Heart Failure (CHF) and COPD associated with the CHF. While on oxygen she was completely lucid and planned her entire funeral with us! (Yes, she really did!) She said she wanted everyone to wear black because it was the best way to honor the dead. She told me that she wanted to be dressed in black, she said, "because it is the most appropriate and most dignified color for a woman of my age."
As she was weaned from the oxygen (the 25 liter/min concentration she required to maintain normal O2 saturation was not feasible to continue, nor did she want to...) she asked me to make sure to paint her nails. She told David that she was not afraid and that she was ready to go. She told him that her brothers and sisters had come for her and they were waiting for her. We knew that. She had been talking to them Sunday a week before, both in her sleep and while awake! That was both cool and creepy at the same time, I must admit!
In the remaining 3 hours of her life, as we sat with her and helped ease any suffering with sublingual (oral) Morphine, I found myself midwifing her across the threshold of this life and into the next. Her transition was similar to women who give birth... she needed us right there, touching her, soothing her, and offering her melted ice cream and a cold cloth to her lips. I said similar phrases: "Its alright..." "You are doing just fine..." "We are right here helping you..." "Just let it happen, you are gonna be just fine." "Its okay to cry..." "You are a wonderful mother!" "That's right, that's good..." And as the end was near, "Let it happen, just go on, let it happen! You can do it." And she did, she passed across that seemingly impenetrable plane and became new again. How bittersweet it was to hold her, stoke her hair and midwife her as she died.
I learned a lot from Corinne that night. I learned that I have the capacity, somehow, to be strong and resolute, even amidst my own sorrow and during painfully sad moments. I learned that a dying person deserves to be honored and to have dignity in their final hours. I learned that strangers CAN be both the worst and the best resources available to you. I learned that hospitals and hospital personnel don't do death any better than they do birth. I learned that I can stand in the face of death and not be afraid. I learned that there is peace and serenity in death. I learned that my future may very well be in hospice and palliative care.b.jpg)
Rest in Peace, dear Corinne. You certainly deserve the break!
(Click on the above sentence to view MaMa's SmileBox memorial.)
Thank you so much for your tender and moving account of midwifing through death.
ReplyDeleteWhat I hope to see sometime soon is a hospice service based on the use of homeopathy, rather than on the use of prescription drugs. I read an account a couple of years ago about such a service, and I was SO impressed. As you look into possibly working in this area, I would be most interested in anything that you might find about a service like that.
I worked for an elderly couple who were in hospice, a couple of years ago, and I ended up being VERY disillusioned about their philosophy. I agree with the philosophy to not do anything medically that will prolong life in ways that the dying person does not agree with. But I was VERY unhappy with their absolute refusal to help with simple comfort measures, like care from a podiatrist.
One of the clients had not had adequate toe care for so long that the toenails were extremely long and thick, and the toes were inflamed, and this condition was making it even more difficult for her to walk. It seemed to me that this was greatly diminishing the quality of the life, and yet this hospice company refused to pay for the care in this regard. Finally, the daughter had to take from her own meager funds to get this care.
I was also extemely distressed to watch both of these patients suffering from the side effects of being over-medicated. Each of them to varying degrees were getting tremors, leg cramps, depression to the point of suicidal thoughts, insomnolence, and varying other debilitating side effects from medications that they simply did not need. These medications were some that had nothing to do with the conditions that they were dying from, and they only made their last days much more miserable than they needed to be. For example, one of them was for osteoporosis, and one for alzheimer's (which I quickly became convinced was simply a mis-diagnosis). In addition, several other medications were just being given in doses that were way too high for the ages and sizes of these patients, leaving them with tremors, insomnolence, pain, and other side-effects which were just completely unnecessary.
I realize that each hospice service is probably free to develop its own protocols, but I think that even the hospice services have fallen into the hospital way of death, which would be comparable to the hospital way of birth.
So I really look forward to and fervently HOPE for a revolution in our home-death services which is comparable to the revolution of our home-birth services which began in the 60s. I am sad in my belief that our home-death services are about 40 years behind what is available in our home-birth services. I hope that the slow but steady advancement of our hippy-generation towards death will bring that development to fruition.
Perhaps you can be a catalyst in that development?
Thanks again for your beautiful tribute to your Mama and her lovely passing.
With heart,
Joy
Wow, Kim! I'm in tears. Such a peaceful and beautiful story! How blessed you both are to have shared this together!
ReplyDeleteThanks Mandi! Love you!
ReplyDelete