So today must be one of the hard days. The nurse from hospice care gave me a little pamphlet about death, about the signs of death. My mother won’t eat and maybe that’s harder for me than some people because my life revolves around food, but I can’t handle it. I sit there begging her to eat and she yells at me. She looks like a holocaust victim, every day I see her she’s worse. She not really my mother anymore, shes just a body that makes noise sometimes.

I just want this to be done with. If they told me they could cure her today I wouldn’t want it, I never want to do this again. Mothers die, and people move on. I just want to reach the “moving on” point. Though maybe that will just involve more waiting.


2 thoughts on “

  1. Anonymous says:

    Though my case isn’t even close with my grandma being in and out of the hospital near death for the past two years, I know how there’s sort of an inner struggle with the thoughts that emerge.

    Except mine sort of reach an extreme just before I can turn them around and tell myself I shouldn’t be thinking them. When planning for a concert the other week, a thought flickered in my head how the concert could actually coincide with the date range that my grandma could potentially pass away. The wiser choice becomes not buying that ticket because I wouldn’t even be there to attend.

    I’ve seen the Planet Earth series — most of it anyhow — enough to come to believe that we’re just another animal living on this planet. It seems that the only dangers we face as a species are from disease, old age, or happenstance.

    For me, this become a huge ethical deal I’ve been trying to suppress. It boils down to the fact that I feel that I lack a common human concern for our elderly and sick. So I try to justify it in my mind with an economical and systems perspective; we shouldn’t waste resources. Why give medicine to a patient we know will die? It then quickly expands to, why do we support those who do not contribute to society? It nearly becomes a political view.

    If I do end up going into medicine, this will be a big hump I’ll need to overcome in order to actually treat people. I recognize that I’m not God to decide who lives and dies. I just can’t figure out if we only support these people because we can’t say “no” because of a social construction.

    Meanwhile, my Grandma has recently got another infection of some sort and is back again being treated. I don’t want her to die, it’s clear how modern medicine has given her at least four bonus years so far.

    I think I hit this “moving on stage” years ago the first time I got a phone call that strongly suggested my grandma would not be alive by the end of the day. It’s not that I’m disappointed that she’s still living. On the contrary, I’m extremely grateful for every moment I still hear her voice. But I definitely don’t want to repeat this, and have just sort of come to terms with the inevitable.


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