In September, she moved into an assisted living home. She wasn't able to live alone anymore because it was dangerous because of how weak she had become and how she couldn't hear well, and she was scared to be alone at night. She liked the place at first, but then complained about a lot. I called her more than my normal once-a-week because she was bored and lonely. Her doctor said that she was doing better at the place, but then he found cancer. No wonder she was so weak! They started radiation treatment (not chemo) to try to reduce the mass for quality of life. There was no talk of curing it. The hope was just that they could make her more comfortable until she got too weak to take it.
She had a few treatments, then a few days before I was to go home for the holidays, she fell and broke her hip. They had to do surgery, but no one expected her to survive. It was a long night, but she did make it through! She's so stubborn!!
Getting out of surgery, though, she was very confused. She ranted a lot, and didn't know what was going on. I finally got home and was able to see her, but she didn't recognize me for a long time. Then I had to leave right when she was getting a bit more aware! It was hard to not have her understand that I was finally back, but what was worse was that she was unhappy. She got a little better each day, though. Even during one of her rants, she was asking for something to eat, but couldn't tell us what she wanted. So I offered some suggestions, like steak or salmon. She told me to be quiet. Well. I guess she still has her feisty streak! But she also said that we could stay as long as we wanted, even though she was tired. Still sweet, too.
She was more aware and happy when they finally moved her back to the assisted living place. She was on an IV in the hospital, though, and not in her room. Everyone started a campaign to get her to eat. The cancer doctor had said that she just wouldn’t be hungry, though. And with her stubbornness, it was a losing battle.
The first time that I visited her back at her room, she was sleeping. The nurse said that she'd been sleeping all day, and she couldn't really wake her. This worried me a lot. I was preparing for her to never wake up. But I went back later that day, with a book, and just sat by her. I read my book, and talked to her. After a couple hours, she slowly started to wake up and interact. It was so heartwarming for me. We talked, and she asked for things. I got her coffee! She told me what "December" is in Finnish (Joulokuu). She knew me, and knew I was there.
She was sleeping when I first went by next, so I went back later. She was awake, and when I asked if she'd had dinner, she said that she hadn't but she was interested in soup. So that was good. In addition to asking for soup, she also wanted to get to the gym to do her walking. That woman is amazing, but clearly confused. We talked more again. I love to hear her stories, and am so sad that all of her knowledge and experiences will be lost. I try to learn as much about her and her life as I can, but my memory is so shoddy that I'm not sure how much good I'm doing.
On Christmas, I was only able to visit once. Luckily she was awake when I got there. I brought a few slices of Finnish cardamon bread that I made, but told her that she needed to get her teeth in and dip it in coffee because it was a little tough. She was happy to get it, but she was never able to eat it. She had been agitated about going out to eat all morning. She seemed a bit confused about getting out of bed, but eventually we got her to agree to just sit on the edge of the bed. She wasn’t able to move the leg with the repaired hip, but she could move the other one. She sat on the edge of the bed and leaned on me for quite a while, then she got tired and went to sleep. It was a good visit, although I missed hearing more of her stories.
I visited again after my family did our Christmas. She was pretty insistent on things. I was concerned that she was agitated and confused, but mostly it turned out that I was confused. Once I figured out what she was saying or referring to, she made a lot of sense. She ate only a little. When she could see that I was frustrated, and probably going to try to get her to eat more, she threatened me! She said that if we were going to fight with her about eating more, that she just wouldn’t tell us when she wanted to eat. Oh my. So stubborn and manipulative. So, Gram wins again. I had to shut up. She again told me to be quiet, when I was trying to convince her to eat more. She immediately said that she loves me, though. I guess it was a good visit. Especially since I was more confused than she was. Her manipulation may be a good sign, showing that she’s aware enough to tell me what to do, and make me do it! But in the end, her not eating will make us all lose.
There were several visits in which she didn’t seem interested in conversation, and wouldn’t eat much. On one visit, I asked if she thought that she’d make it to her birthday; she said no. I’m not sure that she knew that her birthday was only a few days away. I wasn’t sure, but I thought that she’d probably make it. I swear she’s keeping it together through strength of will so it’s difficult to know how long she’ll be with us. A few days? A month? It’s getting harder to be with her. May be because she’s getting more and more tired. That’s what happens when you don’t eat and have cancer, I guess.
Her birthday was really hard for me. She had gotten significantly worse in the day that I hadn’t seen her. Not only was she not eating, but she wasn’t drinking, either. Because her mouth was so dry, she couldn’t talk, either. I started to cry, and then the kids and my sister and brother-in-law arrived. I tried to keep it together for the kids, but couldn’t. Gram was in okay spirits, and I didn’t want to make her sad, so I sorta tried to stay out of her vision. My sister’s family spent time alone with her to say goodbye, then my Mom did the same. When the kids left, my sister’s youngest went to the bed, and with a sad voice, said, “Bye, Gram.” It still makes me cry. I didn’t want to cry in front of her, so I stayed back for awhile. I told her that I admired her and how great she was, but I didn’t say goodbye. I stayed after everyone else had gone; partly trying to stop crying so I could talk to Gram and partly because I really wasn’t sure if I would see her alive again. I told her that I would be by tomorrow, and asked if she would be here. I was being serious, wondering if she thought that she would leave us by then. She laughed, though; maybe she thought that I was making a joke about her getting up out of bed and having an adventure.
The next day, she was pretty uncomfortable. She kept shifting, and couldn’t find a position that didn’t hurt. I kept asking if she wanted medication, but she’d say no. Eventually, a staff member noticed her discomfort and gave her medication. It didn’t really help, so they gave her more pretty soon after that. She wasn’t sleeping when I was talking to her, so I was quiet while I waited for her to sleep. I left soon after that.
She was sleeping when I visited last. She had been in pain, so the staff gave her high doses of pain medication. I knew she wouldn’t wake up while I was there, but I was happy that she wasn’t in pain. I said a few things to her and read my book next to her bed. I didn’t really cry this visit. When I left, I sang her a lullaby from my singing class.
She died on a Tuesday. Peacefully.
I miss her and love her. There’ll never be another like her, but I’ve learned so much about being a good person, a sweet and strong person, an adventurer, from her. I’ll take that with me, always.
It's so hard to lose the people we love. You two were so lucky to have each other for so long. That love does not die. xoxoxo
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