On 30th October 2000 my mum took her last breath. It was a Monday evening at 7.13pm.
The week before I had been told it was just a matter of weeks she had left to live. The bone marrow transplant had failed leaving her with such a low immune system that a simple cold sore would be what eventually went on to kill her.
The cold sore on her lip had spread, it began to grow like some alien fungus, every little bit it spread meant there was less of mums pretty face left. Her platelets were so low (despite constant transfusions ) that the large scab covering her mouth, cheeks and nose wouldn't stop bleeding. The scabs began to block her nostrils and her mouth opening so that breathing became more difficult. I asked an E.N.T specialist if he could do anything and he said no as whatever he cut away would just bleed until she bled out. It wasn't an option.
The hospital and I arranged that my mum should come home to spend her last few days where she belonged, in her own home , amongst her own things and where our lovely dog Meg would be. A special bed was delivered and was put in the dining room. I knew this would be where she would die. An ambulance brought her home on Friday 27th. She was barely conscious. She couldn't speak due to what was now a mass on her face. It didn't look like my mum. She looked like a child. She was bald from the chemo, pale and so so thin. She must have weighed less than 5 stone. I had never seen anyone so sick before. She also had a smell a unique smell that is so hard to describe. It is the smell of cancer, the smell of it rotting away every part of her body.
She was in our care now. Mine, her boyfriend Ian's and her brothers & sisters. We spent time sitting around the bed. Talking, re-living old memories, crying all with no answers but I knew she was listening and that she understood. Aunts and uncles would come and go on what seemed like a rota system. It was on the Saturday night things really deteriorated.
Me and Ian helped her onto the camode. While on it supported by us she collapsed. Ian screamed out "she's gone" no she hasn't I said ..she still had a pulse..a faint one but she had one. We got her back on the bed. My mum was not gone in medical terms but my mum HAD gone. What was left was a shell of a woman I loved more than anything in the world. I could only recognise her by her eyes and hands. I rang the Macmillan nurse who said this was the final stage. She was unconscious and would not recover.So the family were called and over the next 36 hours we stayed around the bed. If she was going to take her last breath soon she would not do so alone. The nurses told us the last of the 5 senses to remain is hearing. We put music on constantly in the room. I worked my way through our cd collection turning louder her favourites.In the last few hours before she passed I noticed a noise coming from her throat. This is the death rattle. It is the most frightening thing I have ever heard. It sounds like a little bit of water boiling in a kettle. It is unforgettable. Her breathing became shallow and uneven, going for what felt like minutes between each breath.
I moved off my chair and slid half on the bed with her. I cradled her head and body in my arms like I was holding a baby. I stroked her neck softly and told her it was ok to let go, I told her she would be with grandad. Tears poured down my face as I told her how much I loved her and that she was the best mum in the world. The tears fell off my face onto hers. The family were crying but somehow my tears seemed much calmer, quieter. In the background Westlife were playing, Flying without wings one of her favourites.
She took one final breath and then her body just went limp, she was gone...I just knew. I told the family "she has gone" and I gently laid her back down on the bed.
It was at this exact moment our dog Meg who had been laid in the same room got up and went into the next room where she lay at the bottom of the stairs for the rest of the evening. Even the dog knew she had gone.
As I write this now I am crying, I am shaking & I am cold. I can feel all the emotions I felt that night as if they are now...this moment. As I cry and write my dog Marley is laid on me, comforting me as if he knows the pain I feel and somehow he's trying to ease it.
As I come to end this piece Bette Midlers-Wind beneath my wings has come on (I am listening to a music channel). A song that always reminds me of my mum, maybe it is her way of showing she's never far from me whether in my heart, my mind or in spirit.
Thank you for your time. X
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