End of Life
If you know that a loved one is nearing death, what are you supposed to do? How are you supposed to behave?
Yes I know this probably isn't a "supposed to" situation.
My Gram lives in another state. She is requiring round-the-clock care by my mom and my aunts, but she hasn't progressed to the point where she needs constant medical attention. She is still alert, and moving around. And frustrated that she can't be more active.
Her doctor gave her a timeline to decide whether or not she wanted treatment (chemo), which at best would give her a few extra months.
She did not discuss the decision with the family, they did not tell her their thoughts. In general, we don't want her going through the added pain/discomfort of treatment, but if we tell her that, does it make her feel like we're giving up on her? That we are ready for her to go?
Gram has decided not to undergo treatment. "The weather's been really bad and I'd have to leave the house three times a week in icy, snowy weather" is the justification she gives.
In spite of these serious Doctor appointments, and life impacting decisions, everyone is generally acting as if Gram has a really bad flu. Including her. No one talks about "when she gets better", but no one talks about the fact that we are getting closer to the end.
It's possible we are following her lead. Or she is following ours. I have no idea.
She seems pretty happy on a day to day basis- definitely living in the moment, and enjoying all the attention she is getting from her family. It may be a case of my family-inherited Denial. Her focus (and everyone's) is on her daily care, managing her pain, and having quality time talking, watching movies, etc.
I am scared to death of being the family member that breaks the fog of Denial. But I'm unsure if I'm doing something unhealthy or that we would regret later.
Are we missing an opportunity? Or are we honoring my Gram's wishes?
When I am anxious or scared or nervous about something coming up in my life that is very unpleasant, I sometimes have trouble sleeping. Or I wake in the middle of the night. I get stomach pains, headaches, a knot in my gut. I can't imagine what it must feel like knowing that you are near the end of your life.
I want to know if she is scared. I want to know what she thinks about. I want to know what her favorite times in her life were. I want to know what lessons she'd like to pass on. I want to know where she got all her determination and strength.
Of course, each of those sentences begins with "I". Which isn't the point right now.
Then there's the added complication of Christmas. All of our typical family traditions are being changed because of Gram's health. Instead of all of us gathering at her house on Christmas Eve, we will be visiting her in short shifts throughout Christmas week. She didn't decide this, her daughters did. They are concerned that the overcrowding and the stress of having the entire family at once will wear her out too much. I'm not convinced this is the best decision. What are they protecting her from? Will we all regret not having one final "normal" Christmas? It's not really my call...
Today, I had to find an appropriate Christmas present for her. I bought her a very cushy, comfy robe, a crossword puzzle book, and a Frank Sinatra DVD collection. Will she notice that my gift shows that I know she's not going to be leaving the house much?
I wish I could just say to her "Gram, are you OK with how everyone's handling this?"
Sadly, I just can't.
posted by Aileen @ 1:47 AM
6 comments
6 Comments:
hi aileen - sorry, its been a while since i visited
and so sorry to hear about your gram.
I regret not talking more to my mum about how she felt about dying - we did all talk about what was happening but i'm sure a lot of the time she was being brave and trying to protect us. And I spent so much time with her, but wish i'd talked to her more.
but there are always regrets. i'd just say, make sure you spend as much time with her as you can/want to
hugs
I'm so glad she had the courage to decline the chemo. It might prolong her life, but it might also diminish the quality of her remaining days.
I gave my mother a book in which to record her thoughts when she was diagnosed with incurable liver cancer. It remained blank as she prayed for a cure. Some people remain in denial. That's their choice. I learned to take her lead.
Nicely written post. If I had a loved one who was nearing the end of her long life, and I haven't yet heard her tell me all about her life (or even if I had), I would try to have some one on one conversations with her about it now. That's not necessarily naming the elephant in the room, but it should prove to be both respectful and highly informative and entertaining. Meanwhile, if her children want to deny reality, and if you're not in charge of funeral arrangements or other reality-based details, then maybe they'll miss out on some of the one on one quality time you'll be able to have, but maybe it won't be not your problem.
i went through this Aileen, and I can't really give you the answers. Even time spent avoiding the issues is well spent if you are with them.
I didn't really know what my mom was thinking those last few days, but we spent the last few dayas eating, and laughing and watching TV. We never got real serious, never asked or tried to ask the big eternal questions.
Didn't seem to need to.
over the period of months we went over the financial and legalities...
But the last thing my mom saw was my Xwifwe and I on the couch with her tickling me to death, to tears, and my mom laughing even harder than I.
I gotta think thats OK.
Oh Aileen. This is all obviously part of life but such a painful, confusing time. When my grandmother was declining and dying from breast cancer I found that she would enjoy talking about the past. One question led to others quite naturally. It seemed more like a celebration of her past than a what are you feeling now sort of thing. But, her thoughts on her present situation cam through at times, when she chose. For me it was a way to hold on and learn about her rich past. I think it comforted her.
My thoughts are with you and your family. Blessings.
Oh, Aileen -- I am so sorry to hear about your Gram's terminal illness. My fiance's oldest child and only daughter has been fighting leukemia for a year and a half and it's not yet clear whether she will make it. This raises a whole other set of issues than the terminal illness problem. Both situations are difficult, but both present so many opportunities to learn and to carry life forward.
I had two main thoughts as I read this post. First, it doesn't sound to me like your family is in denial so much as accepting the inevitable in a graceful way. It seems from what you wrote that you all understand what is happening and you are dealing with it without talking about it specifically, but that is because the ultimate truth of the situation is clear to everyone, and everyone recognizes how clear that truth is to everyone, and so it goes without saying. Granted, I don't know you and the details of your situation, but that's how it seemed to me after reading your description.
Second, I don't think it would be selfish of you to ask your Gram all those questions. Relaying her stories to a grandchild, who in turn can relay them to others, is one way in which your Gram will go on even after her physical body gives out. I think of family stories and memories are a form of immortality. My beloved grandmother -- who was my favorite person ever -- died in 1999, and I constantly find myself wishing that I had asked her more about herself while I had the chance so that I could better honor her memory now.
Take care, Aileen. My thoughts are with you at this difficult time.
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