Hi All,
As some will know, my Mum was bedridden and in the final stages of dementia. She had been six weeks (bar a couple of days) in hospital with a chest infection and sepsis. Back at the care home a day, she had succumbed to another infection.
It was disturbing and distressing watching her. She slept a lot, only occasionally stirring to sip a little apple juice. She had given up on eating long before. From Sunday she had developed difficulty swallowing. From there it was 'mouth care', dipping a tooth brush in liquid and moistening Mum's lips and tongue. I kept vigil and spoke to her - memories, thanks for being a great Mum, regrets I could not look after her better - and she pawed her blankets searching for my hand. I was called to her bed at 4 am and she passed at 5.20pm. Her breathing was very rapid for a time and then it slowed and the gaps between breaths got longer. Eventually it stopped. You could tell immediately that she had passed. Her face wasn't hers, if that makes sense. I burst into tears again. Kissed her forehead and informed the care staff.
The last coherent thing she said to me, days before, her last words if you like, were 'I love you'.
She was a great Mum.
As some will know, my Mum was bedridden and in the final stages of dementia. She had been six weeks (bar a couple of days) in hospital with a chest infection and sepsis. Back at the care home a day, she had succumbed to another infection.
It was disturbing and distressing watching her. She slept a lot, only occasionally stirring to sip a little apple juice. She had given up on eating long before. From Sunday she had developed difficulty swallowing. From there it was 'mouth care', dipping a tooth brush in liquid and moistening Mum's lips and tongue. I kept vigil and spoke to her - memories, thanks for being a great Mum, regrets I could not look after her better - and she pawed her blankets searching for my hand. I was called to her bed at 4 am and she passed at 5.20pm. Her breathing was very rapid for a time and then it slowed and the gaps between breaths got longer. Eventually it stopped. You could tell immediately that she had passed. Her face wasn't hers, if that makes sense. I burst into tears again. Kissed her forehead and informed the care staff.
The last coherent thing she said to me, days before, her last words if you like, were 'I love you'.
She was a great Mum.