A short thread.
In July 2006 my mum died after a couple of weeks in Critical Care.
For most of the first week I stayed overnight at CC to be close by.
In July 2006 my mum died after a couple of weeks in Critical Care.
For most of the first week I stayed overnight at CC to be close by.
When she seemed a bit more stable, I started going home to sleep and my MiL would pick me up the next day and take me in (I didn't drive then).
I always called first thing to ask how she'd been overnight.
I always called first thing to ask how she'd been overnight.
One morning when I called they said she'd not been feeling so good and they were going to put her on a ventilator. It would be done by the time I could get there. So I arrived and she was ventilated, unconscious.
It is difficult to take messages in properly when someone you love is ill (and not all doctors are good communicators), but conversations were had that day in which it became apparent that there was no more to be done. It was a matter of waiting.
And so that afternoon, I sat with my mum, held her hand and even though she was unconscious, I talked to her. I told her I loved her, that of course I'd like her to stay, but that I'd be OK and that if she'd had enough I understood, and that it was alright.
I was holding her hand when she died at about 3.30am the next morning.
I thought about all of this yesterday when I read someone describing how they had to somehow muster their last words over the phone (via a Dr) to a parent, ventilated and dying of C19.
I didn't know them, and it felt too intrusive, but what I wanted to say was:
It's OK. They heard you. They know.
I don't have any proof of that, of course. Not for their parent, nor for my mum. Some will feel it offers false comfort even to suggest it. That's OK.
It's OK. They heard you. They know.
I don't have any proof of that, of course. Not for their parent, nor for my mum. Some will feel it offers false comfort even to suggest it. That's OK.
I believe it, regardless. I think my mum heard, that she knew.
I recognise how lucky I was to be there with her at the end. For those who can't be there, now: I am so sorry. But please, if you have the chance to say those things, even if it's down a phone line - say them.
I recognise how lucky I was to be there with her at the end. For those who can't be there, now: I am so sorry. But please, if you have the chance to say those things, even if it's down a phone line - say them.
Please don't feel it's futile if they aren't conscious. Don't be afraid to say whatever you need to, even if it can't be a private conversation. Know in yourself that it matters
