Wednesday was Bridge Day for my mom. Two weeks ago, however, her bridge group found her doubled over in pain and unable to express what was wrong. They called me at work, and as I sped to her house down I-25, I pondered what I would find and what I would do.
My mother's express wish for some time now has been to pass up 911 and ERs and any sort of diagnostic tests. Yet if she was in pain, if she was having a stroke, how could I just keep her at home and keep her comfortable?
Fortunately, the episode that day was not the big one, just one in a series of more or less transient little ones. She recovered her speech, and lord only knows what the abdominal pain was about. The entire episode, however, was a wake-up call as in wake-up and get a plan. This downward decline is a stepwise path to the end of the line, and we need help.
I called Denver Hospice at 1 p.m., and at 4 p.m. sharp their admissions nurse (a large and gentle man who looked like an ex-college linebacker) was at the door. Within an hour, we had a team in place--nurse, CNA, social worker, and chaplain.
Now I've got a replacement number to 911; I can call 303-321-2828 with our emergencies, we don't have to go this route alone.
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3 comments:
You're in my prayers.
I'd like to say more, but, well, that's all I can say. No words of wisdom or comfort. Just know that this anonymous woman is thinking about you and yours.
Take care.
Wow, got Hospice, got prayers, definitely not going this route alone. Thank you!
Judy
That's got to be "peace of mind" in capital letters for you!
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