On December 27 Mama has been taken to Antelope Valley Hospital. She has had a chest cold and is running a high fever.
Each day I drive to Antelope Valley Hospital to see Mama. Today, Friday she seemed to be feeling better, Even Joking with the respiratory technician! She's worried about her 2 Cat's and bills that needed to go out! I made out her checks and she signed them. Helped her with her lunch, And assured her I would take care of Rusty and Teddy.
Today, Saturday, At the Hospital today Mama seemed a little bit "out of sorts" She is usually sharp and witty, Today she is tired and confused. I spoke to her Nurse and she said it could be an effect of her Medications. I reasoned that to be true. Staying only about an hour and a half because she looked tired and needed rest. As I was leaving I stood at the edge of her bed and looked at my Mom and She looked back at me with love in her eyes. Little did I know that it would be the last time we would have that experience and have each other be fully aware of it.
The call came at 3:30 AM. December 31. The Hospital. My Husband, Richard took the call. It was "grim" they said. Get here as soon as possible. They explained, "Dorothy had suffered a major stroke, had been deprived of oxygen for an undetermined amount of time had been put on a ventilator, and was in a deep coma".
Tear's began to fall, Silent Streaming tears.
I knew I did not want form any opinions until I could see for my self, and talk to her Doctor's. We drove to the Hospital, Asking my Husband to tell me the conversation, with the Nurse word for word again. I had to try to make sense of it.
As I rounded the doorway to her room in the C. C. U. It hit me. I realized that my life as I knew it was gone. My beautiful Mother was hardly recognizable through all the tubes I Vs and wires going into her. No! It can't be happening! I am only 42! I'm too young to lose Mama. They have told me my Mom is in a Deep vegetative state. Deep Coma. I wont believe what the Doctor's are saying. I can't.
My Husband and I stayed all day, Our children came to be with Gram. everyone is in shock and disbelief. My cousin Diane came from San Ramon, My Sister Doreen came from Oregon. Between us there was always someone with Mama.
Each day as I arrive I hope to find Mama sitting up in bed and drinking her cup of hot tea, reading the paper. Except each time I arrive there is no change. The ventilator is breathing for her. The IV is feeding her. The sound of the breathing machine has remained constant, forcing air into unwilling lungs that can't breathe on their own.
I read the mail to her that arrived from the day before. I talk to her about her cat's Rusty and Teddy. Rusty the quiet one and Teddy the one that wants to climb in my pocket. I talk to her about anything and everything hoping she hears me, Knowing she does on some level. Yet she is not moving, not stirring, not seeing her loving family that is praying for a miracle. I lay my head down on the foot of the bed, I try to keep my eyes on hers, I want to look into her eyes, but they never open.
My Sister Doreen had arrived from Oregon, And we spent the last precious days of our Mothers life, Together, Holding hands and each other, As daughter's by Mamas bedside.
It was a Friday, Friday January 5, 2001. I stroked her forehead told her I loved her and how much she meant to me and kissed her goodbye for the last time ... Forever.
