I was with a 95 year old relative when she passed away yesterday afternoon; I will call her E. She had been living alone in an assisted living apartment and had fallen a couple of weeks ago. Due to the pandemic, meals had been brought to her apartment instead of eating in the dining facility. No one knew that she had fallen until the following morning when breakfast was brought and it was seen that her dinner was still untouched. By the time EMTs were called, she had been on the floor for a number of hours, likely all night.
I got called from the facility when she was discovered and then from the hospital, as the third tier of contacts. E’s first cousin is my husband’s grandmother, who turned 105 last week. The next generation down is my huband’s parents however my father-in-law is recovering from heart surgery and my mother-in-law has some dementia. That leaves us, the third generation and specifically me as I was the one who would go out to her assisted living facility and have lunch with her.
When I got the call from E’s doctor yesterday morning that she was starting to look like she could go downhill quickly, I was a bit taken aback. I knew when she was transferred back to the assisted living facility from the hospital, she was going to the care center rather than her apartment to recover more fully. I knew from years ago when my dad had pneumonia, that sometimes patients just can’t regain strength and the pneumonia starts a downhill slide. I didn’t expect yesterday to end like it did though.
By noon I was contacted again for permission to have her evaluated for hospice. By mid-afternoon, I was called on a round table conference call with a hospice nurse and the facility. By 4pm I was with E and an hour and a half later she was gone. Throughout the day, I did my best to keep the other family members informed.
What I am grateful for is that I feel like I was able to help E make that last day as good as it could be. She had an estranged 98 year old sister living in another state. They had not talked for years however the sister has stayed in touch with my husband’s grandmother and I found out that the sister had been trying to call E. When I realized that, I urged the care facility nurses to call the sister and let her talk to E. Though I was not there when the call took place, I know that happened. The sister spoke to E and she listened though was not able to speak back. That’s what I wanted. I’m so close to my sisters that I was determined that the sisters should speak and in some way find some closure before the end. I’m so glad I was able to help get that done. If truth be known, I demanded (nicely I hope) that the staff take the time to set up that call but am so glad now as it was less than two hours before E passed.
I almost didn’t recognize E when I arrived at her bedside; she had lost weight and the pneumonia was making her breath labored. She couldn’t really talk but recognized me and kept saying “hello”. I called Grandmother, her first cousin for a last phone call and E spoke a few words, clearly summoning the last of her strength to speak. I was happy to be able to give E one last chance to talk with her cousin.
In the last hour of E’s life, I held her frail hand and talked about the lunches we had together in the dining hall at her facility. I saw her slight smile and knew she heard me. It was hard for her to breathe and so the hospice nurse had ordered some meds that would help her; apparently there is more they can do once a patient transitions to a hospice situation. The meds were supposed to come by 6:30 PM so I was going to wait until I knew she was comfortable. E was mouthing “Ow” to me over and over which tore at my heart.
I thought of how playing Andrea Bocelli songs got through to my aunt who has dementia so thought some lovely music might help distract E from the discomfort of laboring to breathe. I played some of my favorite Andrea Bocelli songs…”The Prayer” and “Time To Say Goodbye”. I saw E’s face relax and her breathing was less forced. She stared off into a corner of the room like she was listening. After a few songs, I noticed that her breaths became intermittent. Then I saw a last breath. I watched her slip away from life while listening to beautiful music and with her hand in mine.
Earlier, I had sent up a quick prayer that I could be with E when she slipped away so she wouldn’t have to pass away alone. She never married so there was only extended family in her life but everyone deserves to have a family member with them at the end of life. So many patients in this COVID environment have not even had that so I am thankful that she could as she had tested negative for COVID.
That was my relative’s last day. E was somewhat eccentric, strong willed, extremely opinionated and given the oblivious way in which she tromped social cues, she was likely somewhere on the spectrum. And yet…she was a child of God and she was family. Rest in peace, E.
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