The Death Rattle

The hardest part of my mother dying, so far, has been the death rattle. Thank God others have written about it, or it would be far too easy to believe that my mother is still suffering.

Here's an excerpt from an August 2005 article by Robin Marantz Henig in the New York Times:

"The death rattle is what's so unnerving. People who sit beside someone who is close to death, someone in a stage the experts call ''active dying,'' might hear a sound that's not quite a snore, not quite a gurgle, not quite a rasp. It doesn't hurt; it probably isn't something the dying person is even aware of. But it sounds terrible.

''Once the so-called death rattle starts,'' says Charles G. Meys, a hospice nurse with the Visiting Nurse Service of New York, ''that's usually an indication that the person is not coming back.''
The sound, made with each intake of breath, is merely air moving across phlegm. ''Healthy people can cough it up or spit it out or swallow it,'' Meys says, but a dying person is just not strong enough, so the secretions collect in the upper airways. ''And as they breathe in and out, it makes that sound -- that sound that we have learned to fear.'' To those watching, the person seems to be gasping for breath, asking to be saved.

Meys tells family members that he can offer atropine to dry up the airways and soften the death rattle, and most of them ask for it. ''But it's not for the dying person,'' he says. ''It's for the family.''

Connected

My mother is dying of cancer. Last week she took a sudden turn for the worse, and the hospice nurse told me she thinks Mom has only a few days left.

When she was still lucid and aware of her surroundings, my mom loved to hear my niece Regan sing a song called "Connected" to her. Four-year-old Regan makes the song her own, with lots of "oh, yeahs" and a special dance to go along with it. And now, even when Mom seems so very far away, just humming that tune can bring a smile to her face.

I decided to look up the lyrics to this song, which is actually from some Barbie DVD. But I got a chill reading the lyrics, because they're exactly how I feel about my mom now, and how I'll feel about her always.

CONNECTED

I’m blind-folded on this roller coaster they call life.

Keep trying to make it through the next turn, knuckles white and holdin’ tight.

So here I go, takin’ a curve,

But I know that I’m never alone.

I think of you, I know you’d never let me go.

I feel connected, protected, it’s like you’re sitting right with me all the time.

You hear me, you’re near me,And everything else’s gonna be alright.

‘Cause nothin’ can break this, nothin’ can break this, nothin’ can break this time.

Connected…connected inside.

It’s not an accident, the time we spent apart.

But now we’re so close, I can always find you right here in my heart.

You’ve given me somethin’ I need, and I don’t ever want it to end.

Because of you, I know I’ve found my strength again.

I feel connected, protected, it’s like you’re sitting right with me all the time.

You hear me, you’re near me,

And everything else’s gonna be alright.

‘Cause nothin’ can break this, nothin’ can break this, nothin’ can break this time.

Connected…connected inside.

Everytime that I breathe, I can feel the energy.

Preachin’ out, flowin’ through, you to me and me to you. Find your dream,

Walk or stand, you are everywhere I am.

Separate souls, you to find, touching at the speed of light.

I feel connected, protected, it’s like you’re sitting right with me all the time.

You hear me, you’re near me,

And everything else’s gonna be alright.

Connected, protected, now you’re in my mind, now I’m doin’ fine.

You hear me, you’re near me, and everything else’s gonna be alright.

‘Cause nothin’ can break this, nothin’ can break this, nothin’ can break this time.

Connected…connected inside.

Never say never

My wise, late grandmother Esther was oft quoted saying, "Don't ever say you'll never do something, because you probably will." Ah, how prescient her words have turned out to be.

In this very blog I have, on several occasions, claimed I would never do IVF. The thought creeps me out, I said. And then I had my laparoscopy.

Doctors grade endometriosis on a scale of one to four, one being slight, and four being severe. Turns out, I'm a four. I had polyps, and ovarian cyst, and loads of scar tissue. One of my fallopian tubes had been deformed by the disease. The doctor told my husband after my surgery, whilst I was still in my anesthesia haze, that I had a less than five-percent chance of getting pregnant naturally. But, she said, I was a very good candidate for IVF. And giving birth would actually help me recover from my endometriosis.

At first I resisted, hating the thought of putting my body through so much, with no guarantee of a positive outcome. But it's something my husband wants. Really, REALLY wants. And so because we are partners, I have agreed to try at least one cycle.

Tomorrow we go in for a consult with my doctor to discuss exactly what a journey through IVF-land would entail. Yikes.

Life, meet Wrench

I've been away from the blog for about two weeks, due to a major life change. Not the one I was hoping for, but something that weirdly mirrors it. My mother is sick, and I have moved her from California to Atlanta to take care of her. She requires constant care, with me waking up every four hours to provide her with medication and nutrition through a feeding tube.

Oddly, this has been a sneaky blessing. I am closer to my mother now than I have been in decades. Things that used to drive me crazy about her no longer bother me. And I'm gaining confidence in my ability to be a mother. I find I have patience and stamina that I didn't think I was capable of.

My surgery is still scheduled for Thursday. My MIL is coming to town to help with Mom while I'm recovering. I'm sure many madcap high jinks will ensue...