My mother is 90 and until just a few months ago, lived on her own. She lives in an assisted living home now, although is is gradually becoming more assisted every day. She gave her car to my sister. She takes the Medical transport to my clinic (my son meets her there) because it is so much more comfortable than having me pick her up in my car.
She has taken several bad falls--one of the reasons she isn't living on her own--and has injured her little vertebrae over the years. She just started on steroids to help with the inflammation and some other pills to help with the pain when she fell again last night. The nurses found her in a puddle of blood, having a heart attack.
Scared them to death because it sure scared ME.
So Mike and I zoomed the mile down to the hospital, her DNR clutched in my hands. (I keep it on the fridge.) She was in terrible pain (heart attacks evidently HURT LIKE HELL). Her stomach hurt. The fall hadn't done her any good either. And of course, it takes hours to figure out what the heck is going on while the patient (that would be my MOTHER) is lying there in agonizing pain.
Well, they don't call me Miss Bitch for nothing. SO I find the doctor, explain the way it's going to be. Show him my DNR stuff and explain that what I want is comfort, not salvation. Dilaudid and Phenergan sounds good to me, since she is allergic to morphine and codeine. And now.
AND get her in a hospital room and out of the ER. I am not having her die in here with all these lights.
It is exhausting being the bitch.
But today was not the end of this road. I'll get plenty of practice with this. She is sleeping peacefully and comfortably right now and should be going home later tonight.
She is staying at least another night. She is crying because of the pain, and IMO a DNR doesn't include sobbing yourself to death. She isn't ambulatory enough to return to the assisted living place, so I'm looking into an acute care place for a few days.
Her biggest concern is that the nursing staff thinks she is crazy for wanting a DNR. I say, who the HELL cares. She is afraid that they will just stick her in a corner to die in unbearable pain, I told her that was why I was the bitch daughter.
Then she is concerned that her very important papers won't be locked up. I have them locked up in my car, where I keep all my highly confidential work stuff. ("Do you keep your car locked?" Of COURSE I keep my car locked. Do you not have a clue of what I DO? Well, of course she doesn't.Why would she?)
So I am home now and I'll go by in the morning at five, on the way to work. I have a LONG day ahead and no idea what I'm going to do with her tomorrow.