Channel Surfing

Mom is flipping TV channels in her head, I'm pretty sure. You know how, when flipping channels, you can hear an argument at its height cut off in mid-sentence, to be replaced by the voice of a consoling friend, which cuts to a scene of heart-rending drama? That's what my mother's conversation is like. As the advertisement in the Prague subway stations said, "Your cat will love... the feeling of... really smooth legs."

Sometimes something very real comes out, like a moment of crying in frustration that she doesn't want any more cancer. Thirty seconds later, she's talking cheerfully about how she's going to remodel the house. It is very strange and not entirely satisfying to try to express empathy and sympathy for something that only "exists" for 30 seconds.

She was rather angry this weekend. For example, I said good morning to her. She replied, "What is up with you!?" I asked, "What is up with me, Mom?" She said, "You're always all dressed up!" Um, sorry? I do get her clothes when she asks for them, but she eschews most clothing. Or maybe that was sooo five minutes ago.

According to the Hospice booklet, the time one to two weeks before death may be characterized by disorientation and confusion, talking to others not in the room, and use of symbolic language (e.g. Mom was sure we had to go to the airport). Check, check, and check. She is, however, still eating and drinking somewhat.

From the days to hours before death list we have sleeping most of the time and restlessness (during waking times, obviously). It's not on the list, but Mom is clearly hallucinating fairly much. There is no dog, no nephew, no box, no red nut. This last seems likely to be based on my application of red fingernail polish.

I am very tired. My sister was here this weekend, which allowed me to sleep considerably more than otherwise, and I'm still tired. We do have a new joke together. One of us says, "Is it Thursday?" A minute later the other one says, "It's Sunday, right?" Five minutes later: "Is it Wednesday?" Keeping up with reality is a minute-by-minute effort around here.

Hospice thinks that we may be looking at about a week here. Knowing Mom, I wonder if she will hang on a bit longer. I am confident in going on record as saying that I hope that she will receive a complete and miraculous healing, period. But as for the other possibilities... I'm having trouble saying what I hope for.

I most wish for her to quit being upset by her confusion. Last night I was talking with her, sitting on her bed. Then I went into the kitchen to clean up. Less than five minutes later, I walked back into the room, and Mom cried out incredulously, "It's you!!!!!" Turns out, she thought I was dead! She kept asking my sister, "How long had you known she was dead?"

This just in: Mom is talking on the phone. She has announced to her friend that it is 1:10 a.m. This may be because her beloved watch keeps lousy time. She asks me what time it is. I tell her it's 8:15 at night. She says to her friend, "My daughter says it's... one term, one shot locus. And I don't have to make any terms about my breasts!"