the day after I nearly "pulled the plug"
My mom has a terminal illness, she won't get better. In the hospital over the weekend, her cognition was fluctuating like I've never seen it in the past. She wouldn't wake up on Sunday. She was losing her bowels. She wouldn't eat and she wouldn't take her high blood pressure liquid medicine from our ND.
The natural remedy to lower her blood pressure was the only thing that was working. Pharma drugs elevated her blood pressure with a crazy range, 200/50.
"I don't know what to do, Doctor." I sobbed as we stood around my mom's bed.
"I don't either." The doctor honestly replied.
"Should I do Comfort Measures Only?" I asked.
The doctor, not sure if CMO was the right way to go, began thinking out loud. She mentioned Clonidine and then we discussed this new drug for my mom.
"You know, she doesn't look like she's dying to me. I've seen people rally from this sort of behavior. Maybe if we can get her blood pressure down she'll come back." The doctor compassionately spoke.
My mom, her eyes were locked on to mine as though she was peering into my soul. Did she understand that I was making a life choice for her? Do I pull the proverbial plug? I didn't know what to do. The doctor put doubt in my mind.
I questioned my decision, could it be too soon?
My mom, she gave me a Mona Lisa smile when I told the doctor to try the pharmaceutical; our last shot.
My mom sprang back from the threshold of death's door.
Yesterday, she came home. Alert, awake and talking up a storm; finding some of her words. The Clonidine worked. Her BP is normal. She slept through the night and even used the toilet herself.
On the drive home from the hospital she started to laugh as she said, "I thought it was funny yesterday when you were crying, making the decision to pull the plug."
I have learned that holding the power of life in my hands is not to be taken lightly. As someone's Health Care Proxy, you are the one who is the voice for the patient that can't speak for themselves.
Two days ago, I held my mom's life in my hands; it's like nothing I've ever experienced. Left with a feeling of part executioner and part Dr. Kevorkian; I was forced to make a choice that regarded my mom's life.
Today, my mom is alive. I held her life in my hands. I made the decision to try one last thing before helping her leave and catch the bus to Heaven.
I'm happy. I have some of my mom back. This morning, she was alert and even knew who I was; miraculous!