The trials of caring for a dying lady |
I wonder where it all started, or better yet, when? Time has passed and still everything remains unchanged. Sitting here watching her breath go in and out. I know I have time to go clean up the house before she needs more pain medicine. That is what I do. While I'm just finishing up I can hear her start to moan,she is going to need more this time.At least that is what the nurse tells me .We must keep her sleeping The pain is to great when she is awake. Would I want to sleep my last few hours of life away?I don't know,maybe. She is starting to cry but she is not fully awake yet. Oh, this is the bad part,the crying and the praying. I give her the medicine but now we must wait for it to take effect. Oh, she prays. She is praying for God to help her,she says she is so scared of the water.I asked," What water? " "The river can't you see it ? They are on the other side of the river and they want me to come to them." She yells, " Daddy I can't swim!" I can smell the sickness, but more so, the fear. She sleeps now .I watch and wait "I'm here don't worry.Everything is going to be fine.Just let go." I whisper to her. So still she sleeps,not very deep ,just on the surface she slumbers. She is praying in her sleep.The pain is too much.The medicine is not enough. The days pass all the same, more pain followed by more meds.Now I know the time is near.She never goes all the way down, but simply lays there and cries, prays, and begs God to forgive her,spare her. " Oh, how much more can I stand before I break?" I often think. Now she is thrashing in her bed or is it something else? Something worse. I'm thinking it is not time for another dose. We have to wait. I talk to her with soothing words She can't hear me any more.She is far away, in her own fear and pain. Still she thrashes, maybe the nurse was right I might need to strap her hands down. I retrieve the straps with their unkind buckles for the purpose of binding her more to this world. I stop in mid-step and I see the most astonishing sight. She is not thrashing, for she is swimming ! |