Today marks a year since myself and one of my cousins signed my mom out of the hospital. In the nights before, Mom had relentlessly called us to bring her home. I will never forget the interactions I had with her that week.
Gagging ~ 6am September 29, 2020
Mom’s boyfriend, who I’ll name Avery for the sake of privacy, called my cell from her room on the other side of our apartment.
“Your mom is in here throwing up. She needa go to urgent care,” he said, while Mom gagged in the background.
An hour earlier Mom called me to her room to help her get out of bed to use her commode. She also asked me to rub her feet, which I did with a little massage oil through bleary eyes. She had been peculiarly restless since she came home from the hospital less than two weeks before, often bouncing from bed to rocking chair to commode. During that stay she received the milronone IV, which stayed in her arm until her death.
I jumped out of bed and ran around to her room. I prayed that he was just exaggerating, but he wouldn’t do that when it came to her. When I got there, he was holding a trash can beneath her as she continued to heave. I rubbed her back and asked if she wanted to urgent care. I only asked because she HATED seeing doctors, especially the ones that Kaiser hires.
To my surprise, she nodded and said she wanted to go. So Avery and I helped her bathe and get dressed. I ordered an Uber for her and we brought her commode into the living room as we waited for the car. I was a little disturbed by the confusion she showed when we asked her to sit in the swivel chair after she finished on the commode.
“What chair?” She asked. The chair was directly across from the commode, in her line of vision. Something was wrong. My mom was never confused.
Hospital Admission ~ 8am
Avery went with her to Kaiser, while I stayed home to get myself together to start my remote work day. When he returned, he gave me her wallet and told me how a fleet of medical staff surrounded her when they arrived at the facility. A few minutes after that her advanced care doctor called me to let me know he immediately called an ambulance to send her to the hospital.
Removing the Fluid ~ 4pm September 30, 2020
Mom called me to let me know the doctors had removed some of her fluid. She sounded much better and almost like her old self. I relaxed a bit. She told me the doctors still heard more fluid in her lungs, so they were going to try to get it out. I was happy to hear that they were making progress and hopeful that she’d be home laughing and joking with me again.
Text Messages ~ 3pm October 1, 2020
Mom had been in the hospital for two days, on her third visit since mid August. I was still working, so I texted her as I always did to check in on her. But this day, her confusion went to a different level.
Mom: “Where are you? Did you leave me by myself?”
Me: “At my desk. Huh?”
Mom: “Where is Avery”
Me: “In your room.”
Mom: “Come see he’s not in here”
This broke my heart. She thought she was still at home. My God, I have no idea what was going on inside her body but it was sickening to witness.
I was in the kitchen later that day and Avery laughed about the things she’d texted him. I quickly stopped him and voiced my concern about her mental state. I know my mother. She was always sharp. She was very ill…
Shrieking in Pain ~ 9:30pm October 2, 2020
Like she’d done several times during her hospital stays, Mom called me ask me to get the nurses to help her use the bathroom. I had her room phone and the nurse’s desk line saved in my phone at this point. I immediately called and asked them to send someone to her room to help. The nurses seemed to be tired of my mother at this point. She told me they’d have her waiting nearly an hour to go to the bathroom, which is torture for anyone, but especially for her with her weak heart and stressed kidneys that ultimately failed. After one of her previous stays, she told me a cold nurse said she and her hospital suitemate needed to be in a nursing home, not a hospital. It broke my heart to hear that, but during Mom’s final visit it became clear that she was gravely ill. This wasn’t a typical hospitalization.
I stayed on the phone with Mom while the nurse helped her. To my horror, I heard my mom yelping in pain as though the nurse were ripping off her skin. I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to do. Whatever was happening to Mom frightened me. I knew she needed me.
The Last Phone Call ~ 10am October 3, 2020
This call showed me the power of my mother’s will and I will never forget it. I was in my cousin’s car, heading to pick my mom up from the hospital. I hadn’t slept well in days, neither had Mom. I called her doctor and told him that I was about to sign my mother out, per her final wishes. He advised me not to and said he wouldn’t do that for his own mother.
Fuck that. I was tired of hearing my mother beg the family to bring her home. After the call the night before, it didn’t feel like her regular requests to leave the hospital. It felt like a cry for help.
I called mom to tell her I was scared about signing her out.
“Mom, I’m scared. What if something happens to you if you come home?”
“We can’t worry about that now,” she said, cryptly.
“What does that mean?”
Silence.
“Your doctor said it’s not a good idea to sign you out. I don’t know if I want to do it.”
“Why are you listening to them?! Listen to me!” Mom yelled with what must’ve been a bulk of her final energy.
She didn’t have to say any more. I was coming. I was scared, but I wasn’t going to leave my mom alone. I couldn’t have lived with myself if I ignored her wishes. I’m glad I got her that day. I’m glad I got to spend six more days with her, although I didn’t sleep and barely ate during those days. I’m glad we got to hug one last time and I got to say my goodbyes.
Kee Grieves 