Day 3 - The Kit and the "Millionaire"

Writer's Note: If you'd like to know what the hell is going on read Day One and Day Two.

Tuesday:

Though I started the day at work I didn't stay there very long. I got a call from my sister telling me that I should come home as soon as possible, so I finished up a bunch of stuff as quickly as I could and high-tailed it out of there.

At home we were told by the Nurse that my Mom was not going to hang on for as long as she had initially thought and the end was coming fast. Like in a matter of days. What the hell happened to weeks, almost a month? After 7 years of fighting, it seems Mom has decided that enough is enough.

The Nurse gives us the "kit" before she leaves. In this plain, cardboard box was all the medication my Mom needed to keep her as comfortable as possible in her last days. In other words, lots of morphine. The task of administering it to her was left to us. I don't remember ever taking pre-med courses, but apparently it didn't matter in this situation. We were now completely responsible for all of my Mom's medications. Bill took on the task of calling a priest to come to the house to give Mom last rites, while my Sister and I set about trying to figure out which medication to give at what time. I've never felt so under-qualified in all my life.

People are coming and going. Too many people. I don't know if I should stop them from coming, since Mom still seems to enjoy them being there. But they tire her out. I'm now responsible for my Mom's well-being. The irony of the switch in the Mother-Daughter role is not lost on me.

The television is constantly on, tuned to the Game Show Network. She loves that channel. If I have to watch "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" one more time I'm going to scream. Mom zones out to the television while people are there visiting. Nobody seems to mind. It fills the silence.