Hospice is placing my 78 year old dear mom on morphine and anti-anxiety meds as needed. She refuses food and drink some meals (usually when I am not there to feed her), but eats and drinks with me, with difficulty swallowing even her pureed foods.
Can some of you tell me what I can expect regarding time mom has left here on earth, based upon your experience? I know it is hard to tell - but hearing similar stories will help me process what Mom's going through.
I had to almost throw a fit to get this care for Mom... she'd been coughing and rattling for weeks. They tried the patch and atropine and both didn't work. Nebulizer and oxygen as well - but no real difference in mom's breathing difficulty. I had to insist more comfort care for her - through tears - and so now the next level of care is being instituted - morphine and anti-anxiety meds.
Just thinking about Mom's plight brings me to tears... but I am joyful because she's going to heaven and I will see her again.
This is rather emotional for me...
I found I was doing some things wrong for my husband.... You might too.
Be kind to yourself.
And sometimes, getting that pain relieved, means the person can relax and let go.
I feel so sad that you experienced this; it is so hard to sit watching someone die, wanting to be with them for each possible moment, to help and comfort them....then not be there when they do go.
Morphine can be seen as 'expediting death' in some circumstances.
But it is primarily used, and authorized to be used for, stopping pain...though, for many, it fails to stop pain...instead, stupefying them into inability to speak to say they are still 'in there', and hurting. When doses of morphine seem to be failing to control pain, there need to be other remedies to help that, be it other drugs, or sometimes alternative measures.
I'm not a "Christian" but I love Jesus. You are doing this for Jesus, and how can that not be a joy? Sorrow and joy together.
Mom is still eating her pureed foods and drinking when she wants to... but the other night she vomited for the first time... I've been with her each time she's been on morphine after asking Mom if she is in pain and she indicates so (usually an hour or more after she's given her usual tylenol and it is not working). I am beginning to see that if I don't advocate for her, the NH home medtechs, as sweet as they can be, are not really probing her for her level of pain...
Mom is so endearing in this stage of her life. I am so blessed to be a part of this process. My only concern is for her comfort and that Mom knows she is deeply loved. I hold her hands, pray over her, often prepare her for bedtime when I am there (taking out dentures, washing face, putting facial cream on, massing her hands, and changing her clothes) because I choose to... and she appreciates this. The caregivers are wonderful towards her... but I find I enjoy caring for her when she is so needy and dependent.
I do grieve that my siblings and her grandchildren are not more attentive towards her. Some hold grudges. Mom made some mistakes... she didn't know the LORD most her life (only coming to faith less than a year ago) and she could be rather self-absorbed and cutting... But she is so different now... and I wish they could see this.. and make peace with her... sometimes I wonder if this is why she is holding on...
Nonetheless, I celebrate my time with her and rejoice for each of my precious experiences with her. I love my Mom. I always will.
I'll continue to share updates with you. Thank you for reading, asking and praying for me and for all of us here. We all need strength and courage for this passage of our life and those of our loves ones. Hugs to each of you.
Hospice was incredible & I was lucky enough to have my Case Manager arrive literally moments before she passed. She did EVERYTHING (called the funeral home, called Mom's doctors, informed the hospital, etc.). Plus, she was the most kind and amazing person and was right there with strong hugs and soothing words. I could not have held up at all without Hospice.
And, I was very grateful to the morphine for easing my mom's transition.
R.I.P. Mom (1938-2013)
I drove up from LA on Wednesday a.m. & she was pretty bad. I made her a smoothie with protein yesterday and she drank it, but that's all. Today, she had a few bites of food, but nothing else. Earlier tonite, she told me she no longer wants to take any of her meds. She also has been taking morphine since coming home which, allegedly, also helps her breathe. Tonite, she & I talked about what she wanted done after her death. And I told her how amazing she is. That I couldn't have accomplished any of the things I had done in my life without her. And I saw her smile for the first time in weeks. She is giving up...I know that. But, that is her choice, I laid a cold compress on her head, massaged her arms and neck & told her how much I love her. I've been crying all night. I'm surrounded by my mother's life (this is the house I grew up in & she's lived here for 40 years), while waiting for her death. This is truly the hardest thing I've ever done. My heart goes out to everyone on this board.
I just hold you in my heart! {{{hugs!}}}
It is hard to go through hospicing or caregiving a loved one, helping them birth into a new existence.
Yes, it sounds from your post like the end is near.
How near, none can predict--none of us have expiration dates on the bottoms of our feet! But there are signs and symptoms to watch for.
I am amazed you had to fight so hard to get her into a Hospice program, given her condition. They should have gladly come in, evaluated her, & immediately set things up.
Breathing tends to get wet when the end is near--the person has trouble breathing effectively, & fluids in the body are migrating to the wrong compartments, as systems start to fail more.
When breathing gets "wet" [rattly, bubbly], it is common to stick on a little Scopalamine patch [often used for motion sickness], behind one ear--these get changed periodically, & swap sides.
This helps dry up the fluids in the lungs, to help ease breathing a bit.
It's also a bit of a sedative.
Anti-anxiety meds help keep a person laboring to breath, feel a bit calmer... hopefully.
Morphine is formally used to reduce pain--however, it fails to do that for some folks.
It's also a very good relaxant, even in those it fails to relieve pain for.
Good hospice staff know, that using anti-inflammatory meds are a better 1st use against pain, since pain stems from inflammation; then if the anti-inflammatory cannot do the whole job, it might be time to adjust the morphine dose--but using the anti-inflammatory meds first, means less morphine is needed--lowering side effects, and helping keep breathing comfort levels.
The usual rules that apply for narcotics use: it's important to watch that breathing rate stays at 6 breaths per minute -or more-. That may not be appropriate in Hospice at times like these...breathing rates are declining, usually, anyway. There's a fine line between giving the drugs that help relax them despite slowed breathing, or withholding them because of the slowed breathing, and having them be more agitated. You will have to decide.
Stopping eating is an indicator--they're bodies are slowing, things just don't digest; putting food in a system that cannot handle it, is unpleasant--it can trigger nausea, vomiting or diarrhea, etc. .
Getting fluids into the person may, or not, be a comfort measure.
It's very uncomfortable to have a dry mouth & body.
But, if fluids don't sit well in the digestive system before they get absorbed, that can be uncomfortable.
Sometimes, hospice staff may OK an IV just for fluids, & then it's a matter of keeping the mouth moistened--though most believe doing IV fluids prolongs the inevitable--as do feeding tubes.
It's comforting, usually, to use a moist wash cloth to put on their forehead, etc., maybe massage their feet & hands gently, perhaps with a nice lotion or creme that helps sooth dry skin, but avoid perfumed ones.
--Though, some folks do well with real essential oils; some of those can be very soothing--sandalwood, frankincense, etc. depending on the person.
If there are bad odors in the room, it helps to use peppermint oil--maybe on a light-bulb to diffuse it.
When breathing is not effective, circulation is also less effective.
Caregivers may start noticing changes in color--particularly pale/bluish/purple at toes, feet, fingers. Lips may become pale to bluish. So might ears.
Hands & feet can become quite chilled; as the body starts shutting down, it withdraws circulation from the extremities, to feed the core organs as long as possible--it's kinda like birthing backwards.
Usually once a person has gotten to that point, it may be a matter of hours , but it could as well last days.
It's common for someone going through the dying process, to also have a period of rebound, or "rally"--can be hours, days or a few weeks ahead of their dying---when their health & demeanor perk up, as if they are fine, sometimes....this "rally" can fool most family into thinking they are on the road to recovery.
It varies widely, how this manifests; sometimes there can be multiple rallies, but usual is one.
But it's not a recovery. I don't think anyone knows exactly why there is this feature to the process, so often. It seems like a great time to have wonderful memory conversations, & say final lucid goodby's, more lucid conversation, hugs.
Please also understand, unless the person is profoundly deaf,
hearing is the first sense to develop in the womb, & the last sense to quit when one dies.
Speak your sweetest, encouraging words for them to walk to the light, assure them their loved ones are waiting to help them along, that you will meet them when it's your turn later. Time in that place does not exist--time is only something we have here.
It is common for people who have believed firmly in their spiritual truths--regardless of what those are--to suddenly become afraid, suddenly unsure if their lifetime beliefs have been all wrong--please reassure them of the love, continuity, peace!
Sometimes, a person fears letting go, or they're stuck in pain.
These need permission to let go.
Sometimes they cannot hear it from a loved one
--sometimes another person needs to simply tell them it's OK to go to the light, to see their loved ones who've already gone there.
Bend to their ear that might still hear you, & simply, lovingly tell them: it's OK--they are OK, & those left behind are OK--you will miss them, but will be fine, & will remember them dearly.
No doubt, your mom held you when you were scared, as a child--
--this is doing that for her, now--hug, pat on back, reassuring words.
Everything will be OK. I love you; I will see you later when it's time!
It IS emotional!
Allow it, be gentle with yourself, make no apologies for your emotions!
It's part of life.
{{hugs!}}
My heart goes out to you! Last week, my family and I were in the same exact situation. Dad had many,many health problems and was in the hospital again. Congestive heart failure had taken over..Pnemonia with kidney failure. The hospital moved him to the Pallative care unit "to make him comfortable". He was taken off of his feeding tube and oxygen Tuesday A.M and he was kept comfortable by morphine. He passed Tuesday evening. He was very tired and was ready to be with mom again. :,(
He told us he was tired and ready to go and that he wanted to talk to the doctor. I think he thought the doctor could just give him a shot, he was put on morphine to keep him comfortable. I believe I was told that the morphine also slows down the breathing allowing them to pass peacefully. Once he was given it, he did pretty much just go to sleep and never spoke to us again, so please say everything you want or need to say now, do not wait.
God Bless you and your mother, my prayers are with you.
My MIL has been in a nursing home for five years, where she went with constant UTI's and two hip fractures to name a few of her issues. She also has had a very slow growing lung cancer which is not uncommon in 93 year olds, and which the doctor has seen for several years and says will probably not be what causes her to go. When she entered Hospice care almost a year ago she sort of fought the concept, saying that she wasn't ready to go yet and she thought a) it would be expensive (! - so 'her' to worry about the money part of it first!) and b) that somehow it would hasten her demise. Well, she is on morphine as needed and has been for six or more months. At first there was an adjustment and she slept a lot more but now, yes, she still sleeps a lot but her system has adjusted to her dose and she still has good, cognitive times every day. She wears oxygen almost constantly so the increased oxygen makes her more alert and less mentally foggy. And the Cymbalta helps her depression and aches and pains. Our understanding is that this could go on for a long time. Or could end tomorrow. My husband just made the trip to see her, took her to church, out to lunch, and they talked a lot. He has had about four 'last visits' with her and who knows! There may be more. You may find these medications give her a better ability to converse and 'be' with you and you will have more quality times with her because of it. God bless you.
My experience is much like everyone else's. My dad was prescribed morphine by hospice on an 'as needed' basis. The staff at his NH didn't think he needed it so they didn't give it. However, when I was with my dad he'd admit to me (and me only) that he was in pain. Long story short, with the help of the hospice my dad was given morphine and Ativan every few hours around the clock. This began on a Tues. He died on Sat. It was very quick and while we knew he was dying we thought it might take a little longer.
His fingertips became bluish from a lack of oxygen. He had the rattle in his throat, called Cheyne-Stokes breathing but otherwise known as 'the death rattle'. Of course he wasn't eating or drinking. I put cool compresses on his forehead, held his hand, talked to him (he wasn't really conscious). I would put a wet washcloth in his mouth to keep his mouth moist and I thought that maybe somewhere inside of him he could taste the cool water and I used the washcloth then to wipe his lips off. Then I would apply lip balm. That Saturday night the nurse went to give him his meds and realized that he had died. It was very quiet and peaceful. For that I was grateful.
That was my experience.