Saturday, April 4, 2020
Tuesday, March 24, 2020
Mom's Health Issues
Back on August 4th, my Mom's pulmonologist sent her for a CT-Scan of her lungs. The reason for this is not just because she has emphysema and COPD, but she has nodules on her lungs, which, oddly enough, seem to either increase or decrease in size. No one seems to know where they came from or why she has them. In any case, she has to have a CT-Scan to see if there are any cysts.
The above paragraph was written five years ago. We lost Mom almost two years ago, on May 22, 2018. Even though her Death Certificate says she died of emphysema & COPD, she actually died because her one remaining kidney shut down, because it was full of stones-one big one in particular, that the doctor could not break up, so she could pass it.
So Mom kept on getting infections, going on antibiotics, for quite a while, until her system could take no more of it. When she stopped eating the Friday before she died, I knew that this was not good. By Monday, when the visiting nurse came to check on her, she thought my Mom would have returned to the hospital over the weekend. I told her Mom did not want to go back to the hospital. She stated, "If I'm going to die, I'd rather do it here at home."
At this point, Hospice had me sign papers, so that they could take over her care. I was not too happy about this, especially when Fedex delivered the box of meds they were planning to give my Mother starting the next day. I knew my Mom could not handle any more meds in her system. I prayed all that day, and into the night, that God would intervene. At 7 p.m. I prayed a rosary. Mom was in and out of coma. She woke up at 10:00, asked me to change her, which I did. She fell back to sleep, and I dosed off in the recliner, which was opposite the hospital bed, so that I could keep an eye on her. A few minutes after Midnight, something woke me up. I looked over at my Mom, and noticed she was lying perfectly still. She was not inhaling her oxygen. I walked over to the bed and she had stopped breathing. God had taken her home. God had answered my prayers. She did not have to take that awful morphine that had come from hospice. It was over. All the pain and suffering was over. The oxygen machine went silent. Mom's time on earth had ended.
I called 911, instead of calling hospice first; out of instinct, 911 came to my mind, & so I let them know what happened. The 911 tech wanted me to perform CPR on my mother. He even wanted me to get her down on the floor, off the bed! Could you imagine? I told him that my mother has died; there is no pulse, no heart rate, no breathing, no nothing. My mother was now dead weight; I certainly was not going to take her out of bed, & put her on the floor, especially since I only weigh 97 lbs. I wanted her to rest in peace, which she was apparently doing.
Needless to say, the paramedics came, checked my Mom out, and told me to wait for the funeral home to come and take the body. I then called my nephew, who I knew would be up, since he worked at night. He told my sister, and she & her husband were at my house by 2 in the morning. They stayed with me until sunrise.
Funeral arrangements had to be made. Had to contact the rest of the family. The Riso family was going through a crisis of their own. It appears that while my mother was dying, my cousin Michael's daughter was dying, too! So unexpected, so young. Left behind a husband and two kids. Needless to say, the Vendetti family had two funerals a day apart. How surreal it had all been. It was like a bad nightmare that you wished you could wake from. Only God knows why He took Ashley from us.
I will never forget May 22, 2018, for as long as I live, that's for sure. It's almost two years now, and still it feels like it just happened. So much has happened since then. God has blessed us in many ways, and I know He still watches over us. While we mourn for those who have left us, we also remember the marks they've left on our lives. Indelible as they are, they are reminders of how we lived and grew in our Faith. For this, I thank God immensely. He was with me all the way on this journey, and I pray he'll never abandon me.
The above paragraph was written five years ago. We lost Mom almost two years ago, on May 22, 2018. Even though her Death Certificate says she died of emphysema & COPD, she actually died because her one remaining kidney shut down, because it was full of stones-one big one in particular, that the doctor could not break up, so she could pass it.
So Mom kept on getting infections, going on antibiotics, for quite a while, until her system could take no more of it. When she stopped eating the Friday before she died, I knew that this was not good. By Monday, when the visiting nurse came to check on her, she thought my Mom would have returned to the hospital over the weekend. I told her Mom did not want to go back to the hospital. She stated, "If I'm going to die, I'd rather do it here at home."
At this point, Hospice had me sign papers, so that they could take over her care. I was not too happy about this, especially when Fedex delivered the box of meds they were planning to give my Mother starting the next day. I knew my Mom could not handle any more meds in her system. I prayed all that day, and into the night, that God would intervene. At 7 p.m. I prayed a rosary. Mom was in and out of coma. She woke up at 10:00, asked me to change her, which I did. She fell back to sleep, and I dosed off in the recliner, which was opposite the hospital bed, so that I could keep an eye on her. A few minutes after Midnight, something woke me up. I looked over at my Mom, and noticed she was lying perfectly still. She was not inhaling her oxygen. I walked over to the bed and she had stopped breathing. God had taken her home. God had answered my prayers. She did not have to take that awful morphine that had come from hospice. It was over. All the pain and suffering was over. The oxygen machine went silent. Mom's time on earth had ended.
I called 911, instead of calling hospice first; out of instinct, 911 came to my mind, & so I let them know what happened. The 911 tech wanted me to perform CPR on my mother. He even wanted me to get her down on the floor, off the bed! Could you imagine? I told him that my mother has died; there is no pulse, no heart rate, no breathing, no nothing. My mother was now dead weight; I certainly was not going to take her out of bed, & put her on the floor, especially since I only weigh 97 lbs. I wanted her to rest in peace, which she was apparently doing.
Needless to say, the paramedics came, checked my Mom out, and told me to wait for the funeral home to come and take the body. I then called my nephew, who I knew would be up, since he worked at night. He told my sister, and she & her husband were at my house by 2 in the morning. They stayed with me until sunrise.
Funeral arrangements had to be made. Had to contact the rest of the family. The Riso family was going through a crisis of their own. It appears that while my mother was dying, my cousin Michael's daughter was dying, too! So unexpected, so young. Left behind a husband and two kids. Needless to say, the Vendetti family had two funerals a day apart. How surreal it had all been. It was like a bad nightmare that you wished you could wake from. Only God knows why He took Ashley from us.
I will never forget May 22, 2018, for as long as I live, that's for sure. It's almost two years now, and still it feels like it just happened. So much has happened since then. God has blessed us in many ways, and I know He still watches over us. While we mourn for those who have left us, we also remember the marks they've left on our lives. Indelible as they are, they are reminders of how we lived and grew in our Faith. For this, I thank God immensely. He was with me all the way on this journey, and I pray he'll never abandon me.
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