We have entered another night. She is still with us… with me. Her breathing is shallow, at 5-6 breaths per minute, but she is peaceful after blood spewed from her mouth last night near the same time. She is resting but unresponsive to anything we say. A permanent dream envelops her but hopefully our voices pierce the fog.
I’ve spent the day looking at pictures and watching old family videos now converted to DVD. That’s my sister: attitude, spunk, love… all that which made her HER. Tonight she is a body laboring to breathe… I don’t know what her mind registers because she never responds.
I’ve become a weeping shell. I cry, I sit, I’m mentally numb, and then I cry again. All the productivity of the last week has slowed with her breathing. There is a service planned, there is a slideshow made with some of her favorite music, there are collages put together, laundry is done… and now we just wait.
Somehow the waiting has become the new normal when just a few days ago fighting with her about using her walker was normal, when before that her excessive napping was normal, when before that her hair was normal… It’s this long progression from her as a fully functioning powerhouse of a woman to this body holding on to each breath as we wait for the next stage.
I don’t know what to say, I just want You to know that someone is reading this, and Thank You again for writing and sharing.