The eye of the storm

The shit storm that is.

My last post mentioned that my MIL was sick.

Well it turned out she was sicker than we all thought.

Last Friday she went to the doctor to finally figure out what was going on. PK and I had been guessing from the various tests that they were running. I won.

Small cell lung cancer that spread to her liver (and breast too, but that seemed insignificant). They called us Friday evening to tell us and to let us know the established protocol... which turned out to be chemo beginning Monday. So we had a plan, which is my FIL's favorite thing in the world. Plans give him a sense of security and peace.

What is it that they say about the best laid plans?

In this case it should say that they are subject to whims of fate and luck.

Saturday she was back in the hospital having lost a great deal of blood from an unknown source. FIL called to report she was admitted. I told PK he should plan to head out there... he demurred, waiting for this father's call. The next day we got a call saying she seemed somewhat better.... Three hours later we got another call... COME NOW was the word.

Swell... except we have had snow in Chicago and now rain, sleet, snain, oh and wind. So within 3 hours we piled the girls into the car, boarded the dog and headed out. We drove all night long and made it to Long Island around 10am on Monday.. we were directed to head straight to the hospital. When we got there? She was on a ventilator, ECG, O2 saturation monitors, automatic blood pressure cuff... the works.

But still she seemed good. responding to questions.... trying to talk despite the vent. We went back and forth that day. Because while she seemed alert, her test results got worse and worse. She was still bleeding. The girls were horrified by the bruising on her and the blood on her bed. No matter how often they cleaned her up.. the bleeding continued. They gave her blood. Near as we could tell about 4 units. They gave her 4 units of platelets in order to jump start her bodies natural clotting ability. None of it mattered. It turns out that the cancer in the liver was interfering with her bodies ability to produce fibrinogen which interacts with the platelets and allows clotting. No fibrinogen, no clotting... just continuous hemorrhaging.

We called a priest. We told her that it was anointing of the sick (which it is, technically) but more commonly that is known as Last Rites. She was given absolution (asked to think the Act of Contrition). The priest was kind and sweet. I hope she got some comfort from that. We went home for the night after that... The girls kissed her hands... the only place they could reach with all the tubes and all.... and told her that they loved her.

The call came at 4 am. Come NOW.

And we went.

She was less responsive although was still squeezing hands and nodding a bit. The girls came in and said their goodbyes and again kissed her hands. I took them back to the ICU waiting room, where they fell asleep. But not before Thera asked me why Granny's hands were cold and blue. I explained that this was part of the normal part of dying if one was not dying suddenly. Luckily she didn't ask me about the tear in Granny's eye. because it appeared there as I led the girls from the room. I saw it and said nothing. But clearly she was still with us and that disturbed me.

But still she hung on...her blood pressure was virtually non existent and for about 5 hours they kept the cuff on... searching for the non existent pressure. Finally, I asked the nurses to remove it. They were not expecting to find one and it made no sense to squeeze her for no good reason. The nurse agreed then looked at me shrewdly.

"Would you like us to give her some morphine to help with the pain?" she asked. I thought for a split second before telling her "yes". PK and FIL said nothing. PK knew what I was agreeing to. Hopefully he will not hold it against me in the future. I have no great sense of hope in that though....

Withing 20 minutes of receiving the morphine my MILs pulse and O2 sats started dropping quickly. It was awful listening to the alarms going off and knowing that no one would be rushing in to help. A couple of times, she rallied for a few minutes. The quiet would then be cut with the sound of the alarms. and then she flatlined. her heart restarted three times on its own. It was horrible to watch. At the end she moved a bit voluntarily. I like to think it was to say goodbye... and then there was no other motion except from the ventilator. The nurse came in and pronounced her dead. Tuesday morning, December 4, 2007, 9:49. She was diagnosed with cancer 5 days earlier.

We left the room a moment and they cleaned her up for us, removing the vents and leads, the tubes and monitors. We brought the girls in and said our goodbyes. The vent had left her mouth a little askew and this freaked the girls out a bit. Plus she got cold so fast. it was horrible.

I never want to do that again, but sadly I know I will likely have to at some other point.

Her funeral will be Friday. One week after her diagnosis.