Euthanasia....I've had a change of heart!

        My ninety year old Mother is in hospital, with amongst others, kidney failure. For the past few weeks she has lurched between semi managed/indignity, to dire straits / impossible to manage......for all of us. Her gradual demise has taken several years, from prognosis to end result this week. Although this final stage was relatively rapid. Previously throughout her life she has had amazing health. Her childhood background was on the farm her Father owned. Therefore, even throughout the war with their own cow, pigs, chickens and ducks, they lived better than most. She was the original country girl. Strong, tall for the era, suffered hardly any illness throughout her life.

        Only at sixty, when she and my father emigrated from England to Australia to live with their eldest son, did she have a spell in hospital. Bought on, I think, by not acclimatising to either the heat, or the remote lifestyle. I am a great believer that unhappy people very often succumb to illness. If the spirit is sick, so follows the body.  Whether it be coughs and colds, or something more severe. In Darwin, Australia, she had some small illness requiring an operation during which they perforated her bowel. With the nasty results you may imagine. Instead of being in and out of hospital within a few days, it stretched to weeks, then months. I remember getting an impassioned telephone call in England, saying " if you want to see me alive, you better hurry up and come", which we did, my daughter and I. Arriving whilst she was still in hospital. In those days, Darwin had a few such mistakes, today, the compensation would have kept her comfortably for the rest of her life. In the eighties, there was no such recourse for bad medical practice. The surgeons never admitted they were wrong.

         The whole hospital fiasco was just the tip of the iceberg, she hated the tropical North, where everything was so different to what she was used to. She was never able to settle in Northern Territory, Australia. Her husband, my father, was happy to go around with his son, blokes together. Catching the auctions, mending motorbikes, taking the truck into the bush to check on the pearl farms my brother managed. Whilst  mother, suddenly retired, had only the house where it was too hot to do anything all day, surrounded only by bush and strange creature, with no near neighbours, or shops. After I was there caring for her for few months, my parents went on to New Zealand to visit. With my mother not much better, no energy, no appetite, unable to swallow. Indeed, she hardly lifted her eyes to communicate at all. The visit was an attempt to stimulate some interest, a holiday which soon became permanent. Moving to be near their second son, where the heat was not so extreme, was what ultimately saved her. Within the family, we tell the story often, of how, her health not improving, she got on the plane to New Zealand in a wheelchair, unable to eat anything but food the consistency of baby food. To emerge to a tradition high tea of England, with baked ham, meats, vegetables, salads and cakes. Once seated, she cleared the table whilst we all sat spellbound at her recovery. Her specially prepared food 'mush' untouched  beside her.        

         I'm sure my youngest brother though my story of what she required to eat in Australia, a complete fantasy. Her soft diet became a thing of the past, as was her inability to stand, or walk. Within weeks they had bought a house, settling down the hill from my younger brother, my Mother expressing her approval of the climate, and less creepy crawlies. Much to the dismay of both my Father, and my eldest brother I think, who had loved their time together in Australia. What else could they do if they wanted her to thrive.

        This time, her illness at ninety, with both my eldest brother and my Father gone for over twenty years, the bare facts were that her organs were plainly wearing out. Worsened by the fact that as she aged beyond eighty, she decided to stop making any effort to get about, or take any excercise at all. Nothing would persuade her to walk as far as the post box at the end of her very short drive. Within a few years she was having difficulty walking, or balancing at all. The old adage of use it, or lose it is so true. I am convinced that if she had kept active, she would have lasted perhaps another ten years, well and active. Of course you need quality of life, to, so she lived as she choose to live. You must at least, enjoy the lifestyle you have. Perhaps she did, she had her reading, her knitting and her sport and soaps on TV. Naturually, as her muscle tone worsened, she was able to do less and less, but above all she was stubborn. A pity that the very end of your life cannot be so decided to suit yourself. Hers certainly was not, all choice withheld.

        Now during this final period of her life, where we, as a family have tried to do the best we can for her. We knew her wishes, understood the illness was was now entering it's final phase. After so many years of no discernible decline, suddenly she was falling a lot, with digestion problems, as well as bowel and bladder complications. She went into hospital after a couple of such falls, which she hated. No matter how good the nurses there is no worse place to be for becoming isolated, with  rest being the last thing offered. Once home again, we knew she wanted to finish her life in her own clean, bright home, surrounded by her families things. Despite worsening daily, through this last period as she was. Despite me being back in England again, after an emergency visit six months previously when we thought she was at the last. My brother and I tried to organise to keep her at home, which is what she wanted. By then, she was suffering from a whole raft of problems, the worst being her kidney deterioration, which, causes so many associated problems, she found it very difficult. I know she hoped to improve, hoped to get back to having some quality of life. Of course, that could never be, but I know she hoped for it. It's been demoralising and hard going for her and all of those who have had to cope with the day to day problems. Whether that were near, or far. For me, as for everyone else in the family, it's been a building strain and frustration. For her, the indignity of incontinance and pain began and went on and on.

        Me, well, being several thousand miles away merely means you are just as involved on an emotional level and with practical decisions between my brother and I. Although being on the other side of the world in England, whilst she is in New Zealand, means broken nights have become the norm lately. There is little enough I could do, except for daily decisions, and progress to be discussed. As I struggle to deal with the fact I'm not there this time, although still determined to ensure things are as she wants them to be, as she reaches the end of this struggle, and of her life. We were able to get her extra help, three daily health visitors, with family filling the gaps at night and in between. The professional opinion was that she would fail quickly, and peacefully, her many conditions eventually causing a heart attack. No one took into account her amazing constitution, or her strong heart. Just like six months ago, she kept bouncing back, although each time with more residual problems.

        Of course, my brother and I are in perfect agreement on all decisions regarding her welfare. Something I am sure we are both grateful for, I know I am. But having to keep the lines of communication open are only possible to such a degree because of modern communications. Emails, texts, phone calls and all the rest...even Facebook has it's part, although not my favourite medium. It's too 'in your face' for me, I'm too old perhaps to deal with the floods of personal things the young post. Let's  be honest, much of it appals me. Different attitudes to privacy and respect I guess.

         As she gradually sank, she ate less, she lost all interest in everything and coped less well. Her kidneys were soon down to 10% working ability. Everything began to fail but her heart kept going. Her strong, farmers heart just would not give up. God bless the woman, she had a hard end, with both building pain and all the indignities that double incontinence brings. I prayed for a swift end, I think we all prayed for someone to overdose her, to send her on......to help her.....for it to end. Her pain and her moans were almost non stop. Honestly, you wouldn't let a dog suffer so long, or so hard, why must she. No one deserves that hard end, not when there are the medicines to take away the pain. Murderers and rapists, those guilty of despicable war crimes are given more care and consideration than an ordinary, hard working wife and mother of Old England, or old colonial Motherland was. Even the final two weeks, back in hospital, they were unable to prescribe enough pain killers to keep her pain free more than a percentage of the time. I'm sure it must have been the same as that stage you get to when giving birth, when you become the pain. There is no you, no surroundings, only the pain. You are the pain, the pain is you. Except hers did not last for twelve hours, thirty six hours, there was no baby at the end of it. It went on, and on.....she had to suffer! Why must she suffer such torture?

         Needless to say, this missive has taken a lot out of me. A lot to write. I struggled to set it down, to explain how the healing profession have their hands tied when it comes to such circumstances. At no time must the patient be given enough Herion, or it's substitute to be a danger to her life...but for goodness sakes, what life? Had she been in Holland, they could have helped, as in some other countries. We read all the time in England about being put on 'the pathway' once hope is gone. Where was her pathway out of there. No one would listen to the family, could listen to the family. Before the end, she wanted to die too, but with no recourse for doing so. She had no choice, we had no choice, but to see her, and hear her suffer hour after hour was insurmountable. I can understand how loved ones put a pillow over a face, I might have done so if I were there in person. Or an overdose, except we had no access to her medication.

          My poor Mother......when I began writing this, she believed she had hopes of recovery, now she has been gone some weeks. In truth, it was only her last four/five days, when she was moved to a hospice that she was given enough drugs to keep her sedated, finally out of pain. That was hard to wait out, but at least peaceful for her.

        Previously, I believed that to choose to be euthanised was a cowards way out, that it might hurt the family. Family who might think their loved one choose to leave them, rather than stay longer with them. Except it's not like that is it. When hope has gone, when pain builds, when bodily indignities only worsen with no hope of improvement, it's time to go. Who in their right mind would want to stay, would want to keep her there...no one! She should have slipped away peacefully weeks ago, when her failing organs put added strain on her heart. Except she had the unlucky combination of a weak body and a strong heart.

           I for one, have made it clear that should I be in a similar situation to her at any time, then help me go. With, I hope the approval of the powers that be. I hope no one has to put their liberty on the line to help me, as I would have tried to help her. No one should be faced with that decision. Then..NO ONE SHOULD BE LEFT TO SUFFER.....as my Mother was, for hour after hour, after hour.

           The government should have compassion, not to take the decision out of our hands, not to be scary big brother, but to give us, the family, and the pateint, the choice. Not to let the suffering go on......and on.......and on........

           Therefore, as I said, after that harrowing experience I now say bring in EUTHENASIA. it was hard for me at a distance, what must it have been Iike for my brother in the same room....and so helpless to do anything.

            Don't put more patients and their families through that! Give us all the freedom of choice!

          

House guest

    With my life 'on hold', or is it 'in flux', I am having to be the perfect house guest for a while. Yes, ok, it's with family...but not sure that makes it easier. Yes, I could have gone off on my own, rented something very small, lived in a shoebox even smaller than the last year, but what an opportunity to visit properly (they told me) so...how could I not. Hence, here I am, at my daughters flat, in the midst of her family. Here for three weeks, then on to the home of my eldest son, even further away and for an indeterminate time.

      Fitting in, isn't that what you do? Try to fit in as seamlessly as possible, make no waves, not be demanding, or interfering. Well, I had great hopes, but actually it's a lot harder ball game than you think. Firstly, life is busy, in her case it seems to be more 'manic' than any other adjective. Or perhaps from the inside, you begin to remember what bringing up children, running that kind of household, is all about. Of course the biggest aspect of it is, it's not how you did it, or would do it in her shoes. Except you're not in her shoes, she is. You must remember that, if you are to survive. or should that be, if your closeness is to survive happily. You must not intrude, but not be remote. After all, this is supposed to be a pleasure for you all....isn't it?

      It's such a fine line though isn't it. How much 'help' should I give? How much advice...if any? How much space should I give her? How much companionship? After all, they have their routine, or in this case, as I see it,  lack of it. No, no, that's not fair. Of course they have a routine, as I explained already, it's not my idea of routine. It's more like anarchy, when I always believed there can only be one commander. Times have changed they all tell me. Children aren't how they used to be. Well, I was a teacher for many years...can they have changed that much? Perhaps I'm old fashioned, just behind the times? Perhaps I was as much out of tune in my day too, to my own Mother. My mother, who looking back, I found quite difficult to share a house with. As she did with me, we were too different. Surely, we two, my daughter and I, have  a better relationship than that, don't we? Or, did my own Mother think the same back then, we both perhaps just overstepped the mark in a similar situation, or we were too different in our approach. See what I mean. It's a minefield. But perhaps I worry too much, it's a difficult time we are in.

       It's all the more poignant, as my own mother is coming to end of her life right now. Located on the other side of the world, all I can do this time, is keep in contact from a distance. I went over to be with her six months ago when we all thought it was the end. Now, it's impossible to go again, for a variety of reasons. One of which, is that my life is going through great changes of its own, (It sounds as if it has an energy of its own doesn't I, which is exactly how I often feel.) Her demise being a part of it all I suppose.....I have had her for such a long time. This means I am coping with both emotional and physical changes, many of them out of my control. Not knowing how, or where I will be at the end of it, seriously, I said I was 'in flux', as I surely am. In the meantime, my Mother goes through her own great changes surrounded by my brother and his family, but not me and mine.....which is hard.

       Modern technology keeps us all reasonably close, regularly in touch of the latest news by the flick of the airwaves. Which is both frustrating and comforting at the same time. Well, this is how it is, and I will have to cope with it. Stepping carefully through the minefield, which is life both home and away. My instinct is to get stuck in, organise everything. Something that I really can't do, either here, or there. Or maybe in only small ways, if requested. Of course, the distance stops me doing much of that for Mother. Although, as always I have plenty of suggestions, supporting those there at the coal face. Helping them a little, I hope. Whilst here at my daughters, I hope it's the right kind of consideration holding me back. The right kind of generosity I offer throughout this extended visit.

      Ah well dear friends, (see how I assume you like me,) time will tell what will be the end of this story. Yes indeed, time will tell. Wish me luck, indeed, wish us all luck, because we are all under pressure these next few weeks. After which time, I go on to my sons home with enough resilience intact to begin again tranquilly, I hope. Whether I still have a Mother at that point, is in the lap of the gods. Whether I still have a daughter close and loving, is rather more down to my own sensitivity and inner fortitude. Here's  hoping that LOVE will conquer all, because I certainly have plenty of that. May the passing of my mother be surrounded with love, as she is met by her loved ones on the other side.....

A little bit here, a little bit there

        Further to the delays and frustrations around me lately...I vowed to keep positive, to keep creating my own reality. I am doing that every chance I get. Of course you have to to invest some mental and physical energy into the mix too. After all, the more you stir up the energy around you, the more energy you create. Energy you can then direct, where you wish it to go. To that end, I keep aiming to do the little jobs, sort out cupboards, throw away stuff, we all have too much stuff anyway. Make phone calls, I hate to make, where did my hate of the phone come about? I must organise my dairy....most importantly have a bit of fun in the midst of all the mundane slog!

        Speaking of my dairy..... that's gone crazy too, I have such a busy week. A busy fortnight really, everything seems to be cramming together into my, already  'too short' days, it's easy to become muddled. Finances are tight, a euphemism for non existent. I don't have one credit, or debit card working at present, which, in today's world means you are out of the loop. All affected by the banks, deciding  to send me the latest smart card, ordering me one, cancelling the old one. All without telling me anything about it. I had a couple of highly embarrassing supermarket visits, where I stood with a cart of food, only to be refused. The cashier, shook her head at me sadly, 'it's usually overdrawings the problem' she said wisely.  Ignoring my protestations. Thank god for my habit of throwing change into my bag....it took some time to locate enough though, but I did it. These indispensable cards, we must all use now, all developed faults, out of my control, at the same time. What is the Universe trying to tell me? I know my poor car, running on empty is not a fan of whatever it is. What a bore, in a busy time, and unwell time, to keep running down to the bank, to get cash over the counter, or check if the new cards are there...I'm exhausted enough without all the stress of this.

         My energy levels are still likely to dip suddenly, my chest remains clogged, my sinuses blocked. On top of which, confusion reigns within me far too often. Of course, my Mother is still ill, up and down..mostly down, a world away, but always on my mind. While I spent most of the day rushing around trying to catch my tail, and make sense of what I was doing. Talk about senility, half the time I m sure I'm there! There is just too much in my head...I need a good defrag, like an old computer. 

         Of course, it's then I must rehash the picture, build the ideal scenario to bring me out of this. Out and smelling of roses, I hasten to add. Today it was copious phone calls, trying to track down the location for the change of storage unit, attempting to find the drop of point for unwanted furniture at the charity shop. Made difficult by a whole new crop of double lines up the pavement for as far as I could see. 'No stopping, No stopping' Meaning there was nowhere I was allowed to stop to unload. Oh joy! Perhaps once I have seen the fire alarm man in the morning, my landlord in the afternoon, had two doctors appointment, and a hospital visit in the following days I can slow down. Oh once I've checked my storage facilities ready for the move, and the removal transport arrangement, checked the bank again. Then finish the packing, keep the washing up to date and on, and on. As for cleaning the place once I can see the floor for boxes again, well,  I just can't imagine having the will or the energy for that, and I don't care.

        Still, one step at a time, keep on taking the pills, whatever helps. Above all keep positive and keep building utopia around me. Something's got to give soon.....after all, I'm putting in the energy!

        In the meantime, I'm climbing over and around all these boxes and piles of stuff, after bagging another couple of sacks for the charity store, gradually making my way into bed, to sleep. After I finish this of course., got to write a bit too.

         Ahhhhhh, always appreciate the blissful aspects of your life.

         Who remembers that old song?

         "You have to accentuate the positive, and eliminate the negative, latch on to the affirmative...don't mess with mr in between."

           A song for every occasision, that's me!