On Death's Doorstep

On Friday we had our first 'in-take' appointment with our hospice nurse, Bernice. She came to the house at about two and left at 3:30. It was a full meeting - so full of reality - I think both my mom and I thought we might pop with the enormity of it all. There was a time in the conversation when Bernice stopped talking and asked my mom if she had any questions about death. My mom, in a tired and wisp of a voice said, " Yes I have lots off questions, but I am afraid to ask them right now..." My stomach felt as if I had eaten a rotten piece of dying flesh and was ready to hurl it all over the room. My emotions were beyond taxed and my body was reeling with the place we found ourselves on Friday.
Saturday, we jumped off a cliff with no parachute...and for the last two days we are free falling from space- feeling no pain, just anxiety, sadness and fear.
Come Saturday morning, the morphine and adavan was delivered to the house - because mom had admitted to the nurse that the pain had started. I gave her her first dose, and from then on, morphine is the driver summoning her to breath. Her lucidity became less that day, and her surrender to the disease more prominent. Sunday arrived like a house on fire. I went to her room to give her the Tarceva and she couldn't swallow. Air blocked her water and set her day into motion down the wrong pipe, then under the bed sheets, I revealed her lack of ability to control her fluids, her limbs so here we are now, her life is all about being in the bed. From zero to 120 - my mom had lost the ability to walk  over night. The day before she was walking, talking, engaging and full of her tiny cancered self. Yet Saturday - at six am, mom had wet the bed, was confused, and her body was aborting all missions to function properly, though her head was saying differently, her body was on strike. I changed her bed clothes to the best of my ability, and her bed pants and got her semi cleaned up. Then the call to Hospice began...
She is going down quickly and I am too tired to write more right now...I will return to this, but know I am loosing my mother - ninety days from diagnosis to here.  God bless all who suffer from Cancer, the victims are legion.