I just needed to agree with you both. Everyone kept telling me that we were so 'lucky' to have been able to get my mother a place in a hospice for the last weeks of her life. I think that everyone thought that after all the previous upsets, we would have this wonderful experience in which our dying mother would dispense words of spiritual comfort, lying in a bed, surrounded by family with her favourite arias playing.
It wasn't like that. Like a lot of people, my mother had one of the cancers that metastasised extensively (she had a number in her brain) and that affected her cognitively and emotionally. Sometimes she was lucid and (understandably) very sad, the rest of the time, she was either awake, retching and unable to recognise anyone while being caught up in what sounded like awful waking nightmares, or she was sedated enough that she didn't retch but was no longer rousable.
Watching my mother die was what it was - there was little point trying to sanitise the experience. But I thought the attitude to medication was bizarre. The medical staff spoke with us about giving her anti-depressants and anti-anxiolytics but every day, they would ask my mother whether she wanted any pain medication. She could either give no response, or there were times when they asked when she was in the middle of saying a stream of "No. No. No" which they took as responsive to their question, ignoring the fact that it occurred along with, "The horse, the horse. Get him out, it's in the hole".
I know people who have had very positive experiences of hospices and end-of-life care. But I don't think that all of them live up to their PR. I feel that I've said something disloyal and politically incorrect in saying that - so I want reiterate that I do know people who have had life-changing experiences. Maybe it was just me and my family - but having read about Stewart and Rebecca, it helps to know that other people can feel confused and angry and haven't been told what to expect.
Guilty Carer (not verified)
May 10, 2006 - 17:37I just needed to agree with you both. Everyone kept telling me that we were so 'lucky' to have been able to get my mother a place in a hospice for the last weeks of her life. I think that everyone thought that after all the previous upsets, we would have this wonderful experience in which our dying mother would dispense words of spiritual comfort, lying in a bed, surrounded by family with her favourite arias playing.
It wasn't like that. Like a lot of people, my mother had one of the cancers that metastasised extensively (she had a number in her brain) and that affected her cognitively and emotionally. Sometimes she was lucid and (understandably) very sad, the rest of the time, she was either awake, retching and unable to recognise anyone while being caught up in what sounded like awful waking nightmares, or she was sedated enough that she didn't retch but was no longer rousable.
Watching my mother die was what it was - there was little point trying to sanitise the experience. But I thought the attitude to medication was bizarre. The medical staff spoke with us about giving her anti-depressants and anti-anxiolytics but every day, they would ask my mother whether she wanted any pain medication. She could either give no response, or there were times when they asked when she was in the middle of saying a stream of "No. No. No" which they took as responsive to their question, ignoring the fact that it occurred along with, "The horse, the horse. Get him out, it's in the hole".
I know people who have had very positive experiences of hospices and end-of-life care. But I don't think that all of them live up to their PR. I feel that I've said something disloyal and politically incorrect in saying that - so I want reiterate that I do know people who have had life-changing experiences. Maybe it was just me and my family - but having read about Stewart and Rebecca, it helps to know that other people can feel confused and angry and haven't been told what to expect.
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