I Wouldn't Wish This On Anyone: Part 2

It has been two weeks since my mom's condition deteriorated. At first, the changes were subtle, but they have become far more pronounced in the last few days. She will slip into a coma soon.

Strangely, that prospect is somewhat comforting. For the first week and a half following Thanksgiving, I was told that my mother was going to die by drowning in her own lung (her lungs and abdomen are continuously filling with liquid) or by spontaneously bleeding from her eyes, ears, etc. The torment of having to choose which horrific death my mom would suffer was eating at all of us. Can you imagine having to make that choice?

Thus, it was oddly comforting when the hospice doctor came over last week and said that my mother would slip into a coma and would go from there. Her liver has failed and the kidneys are next.

She won't eat and when we try to get her to drink, the liquids come out through her nose, although I haven't quite figured out why. The dehydration is so bad that she no longer produces saliva, which makes giving her the necessary morphine an incredible challenge. Swallowing is no longer a real possibility, so we mash up the pills, mix them with cranberry juice and administer the doses with a dropper. Since she won't or can't swallow the long-lasting 12-hour morphine pills, we have to repeat this scenario every 1-2 hours. I am not sure how much she weighs, but it isn't much. Skin and bones are all that is left of what was once a vibrant, dynamic woman. I am not sure if she sees or hears us because her glassy eyes seem to see through us.

My sister says that people in comas still feel pain so tomorrow we have to figure out how we will administer the morphine when she completely checks out.

No one deserves this. Neither to experience it nor to witness it. Please do not take your health for granted. If you are over 40 and you have not yet gone for a colonoscopy, it's time to make an appointment.