The Lord's Prayer - 2024 07 24

 

"Our Father, who art in heaven..."

I woke from a deep sleep at 445 am to the sound of Mom's voice weakly reciting the Lord's Prayer from her bed. I immediately thought she was on her way to find her resting place with Grandpa and Grandma Jones. Lately she had been reporting her conversations with them to me, telling me that they, "...were happy with their lives and what they had left behind." 

In the last two days Mom had suffered from difficulty breathing, a bout of bowel incontinence and a swollen knee too painful to bear weight. I had been giving her extra puffs on the inhaler, a simple diet, and elevating her sore knee. 

I padded into her room and found her in some distress, in tears. I couldn't figure out exactly what the issue was, it was more like generalized grief rather than specific sadness or pain. I sat on the side of her bed and held her hands, wondering what to do. Was she at the end of her life? Do I call my siblings and tell them to get over here if they want to say goodbye? 

I reassured her that everything was ok and she didn't have to be afraid. I got her to sip her water while I got her a glass of juice and brought her dentures from the bathroom. I helped her struggle up to get on the commode. She was feeling extra weak, struggling to sit up. She had great pain in her knee. 

I put the kettle on to boil and emptied the commode. I brought her a pain killer and her inhaler to get a lungful of medication. She started to feel better. 

"I'm hungry." She announced. That made sense, since the last diarrhea incident I had been giving her small portions of yogurt, applesauce, and soft buns with butter. "I'll get you a bowl of Rice Crispies, ok?" 

She lay back on her pillow exhausted, nodding her head.

I brought the bowl of cereal and she was able to sit up to eat. "I am so old," she said, somewhat sadly.

I busied myself tidying up her room and the kitchen and when I came back, the bowl of cereal was empty. Mom looked better. 

"Would you like a cup of tea and a bun with butter and jam?" I asked.

"That would be lovely!" she smiled.

I made her a cup of tea just the way she likes it, with a small spoon of sugar and a dollop of milk. I piled the soft bun with a thick slab of butter and a generous spoon of grape jelly.

At the sight of this second course of early breakfast, Mom said, "You are an angel. Bless your saintly pot." This is one of Mom's favourite blessings. 

I cleaned up the kitchen again and checked in on Mom. She was lying back on her pillow. The tea and bun were gone.

"Would you like to listen to some Car Talk? Would that help?" Mom nodded her head. I set up the iPad to play her favourite podcast. 

"I'm going back to bed, Mom. Are you ok now?" 

"I'm ok. You get some sleep."

I climbed back in bed, not knowing if she would still be alive when I woke up.

I awoke a couple of hours later. Mom was asleep, breathing evenly.

I was feeling upset. Fragile. Vulnerable. I had a hard time figuring out what was the next right thing to do. Over many conversations with my husband, I started to figure out what had happened and what Mom needed. 

First, I needed to be reminded that it is not my responsibility to both take care of Mom during an emergency and phone notifications to absent family. It puts too much pressure on me when I am using everything I have to respond and provide caregiving to Mom.

Second, I realized I need to set up voice activated phone calls on my iPhone so I can call my husband when my hands are full and I need help.

By the middle of the day I was exhausted, but I felt more at ease. I deduced that Mom had been in a dementia-induced state of agitation when she was reciting the Lord's Prayer. She was 'sun-downing' but her cycle includes 'sun-rising' periods of agitation. It had been quite some time since she had been through this. Usually her routine for agitation starts at about 4 pm, and I give her medication to help make her comfortable to ride out the distressed state of mind. It had been many months since Mom had been bothered with sun-rising events.

After consulting with Mom's Doctor, I learned that the pain from Mom's sore knee could have caused real confusion for Mom, because, in her dementia, she might have woken up in pain but not known where it was coming from.

All this makes sense to me now. In hindsight, I can see that Mom still has a lot of life force in her body and she isn't ready to leave us yet. In the moment, I was in my own state of 'sun-rising' distress, at the prospect of losing my Mom and being alone in the moment of her passing.

Today is going better and we are piecing together the complex of medical frailty that gives rise to Mom's current state of vitality and ability. She is happy and comfortable. 

Another day to enjoy this adventure. I pray for serenity as I look for answers and find solutions.