Last Monday, I tried to call Mom but her line was busy. This is not that unusual, so I didn’t think too much about it. A few minutes later, I received a call from an unknown number. By the time I Googled it and saw that it was the Lifeline number, the call had gone to voice mail. I immediately called back without waiting for the message.
Mom had slipped off the bed and fallen. She fell on her butt, thankfully, but was still sore and shaken up. Fortunately, she was checked out by EMS and seemed ok, so no ER visit was necessary.
Still, I fear it is the beginning of the “no longer can live at home alone” phase. Mom’s done pretty well this past week, all things considered, but the tricky part for caregivers is knowing when to make these key decisions for a loved one’s care.
At the same time that was going on, our 16-year-old cat was rapidly declining. A cancerous lesion on the roof of her mouth meant she could no longer eat without discomfort, even with pain medications. Sadly, over the last few years, I’ve become used to the euthanasia process. While thankful that we have that choice for pets, it is still brutally heartbreaking to have to make that decision.
My mom wishes she could be like the cat and just go on. She says she is ready and she is not afraid of what is beyond. She is miserable with being in constant pain, and having a loss of appetite and fatigue. The doctors are no closer to diagnosing her than before. Is the cancer back? She’ll have to have a colonoscopy to determine that, but at barely 100 pounds and weak, she’s in no shape for the preparation.
She also hates to be a burden on others. While certainly I can’t deny the stress the last few years have created, I don’t want my mother to feel guilt over something she cannot control.
With wry humor, I know that we are going to have to get a bigger shelf to hold all of our memorials, for people and pets lost over the years. It’s getting crowded up there.