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Location: Lake District, Cumbria.
Joined: Feb 2006
Posts: 3,042
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My mum, RIP 2nd March 2001
My mum was a fantastic warm and friendly person. The kettle was always on and everyone was always welcome. She had an infectious laugh and a great sense of humour. She died much too soon and never got to meet our little Megan (nor did my dad).
Well it's exactly 6 years ago today when I had to make the hardest decision of my life when I had to five permission to turn my mother's life support machines off. I will never forget the sight or sounds of that day.
Mum died that day at only 66 years of age. She had been reasonably fit up until the weekend when she was admitted to hospital after severe vomiting, temp and so on. My cousin who is a senior consultant anesthetist in Canada told us by her symptoms it was serious. He thought she had an obstruction in her bowel, and if this was the case she would need an urgent operation to remove it. Anyway days went by and numerous tests were eventually given. A central line was put in place. We were due to go on Holiday for a week to Lanzarote. I told mum I wasn't going but she told me not to be daft and after talking to her consultant we were assured all was well, and off we went. I telephoned the hospital everyday as I didn't feel that things were right, except for the day before we were due to fly back as I knew that I couldn't get back home any sooner.
The flight back home for me was awful, as I found that I just could not breath at all, and required oxygen. Anyway we got home but it was evening by then and too late to visit. As our eldest daughter actually had an interview at the same hospital for nurse training the next morning we decided we would go with her and visit mum then (if she wasn't home by now).
Anyway imagine our shock when there we bumped into my two brothers...just leaving as mum was in intensive care. They had finally decided 17 days after being admitted that it was a bowel blockage and operated the exact time that we had been flying home. Apparently mum was having difficulty breathing after the op and so they took her into the ICU, just to help her for a couple of days.
She was lying there all wired up, sedated but I'm certain she knew that we were there. As the days progressed she steadily got worse and worse needing more and more equipment. Three further operations were performed on her to remove the dead flesh around the wound site. In fact by the end she had no visible outer stomach at all. The bowel had died away and necrosis had set in. For weeks I stayed with her massaging her, talking to her and so on. My poor dad was just to distressed and didn't visit until a couple of days before she died (at my insistence).
Anyway she was suffering multi organ failure by now and that morning I had to agree to let them turn the machines off. I will never forget the sound of her heart racing a little or the sight of her turning blue in front of me and it is something I hope I never have to do ever again. I sat holding her hand until she died and then had to go and tell my dear old dad. They had never been apart in their lives up until then.
Anyway sorry to ramble on and apologies to those whose threads I've answered tonight as my mind has been else where. I'm just hoping that by writing this down I may just be able to finally move on.
Thanks all for 'listening'