Facing the Inevitable

I have known for some time that my grandmother is dying. She has been preparing for it for quite a while. Over the last year or so, I have heard her say many times that she was ready to go.  In the last six months, she has updated her will and written final letters to beloved friends and family members, to be mailed after she's gone.  She has given away treasured possessions and put her favorite jewelry in little boxes, carefully labeled with the name of the person who is to inherit it.  She has said, more than once, "I have had a good life - I don't know why I'm still here.  I am just waiting for God to take me."

Although I have known in my heart that there would come a time when Grandma Peggy would no longer be with us, I think I have been in a little bit of denial about how soon that end was likely to come.  Although Peggy has grown increasingly frail over the last few months, I still held some hope that she could somehow bounce back and recover some of her strength - that she might have a few more good years left in her.  All of that changed two days ago when she was referred to hospice.

If you're familiar with hospice, you probably know that in order to qualify for hospice care services, the patient has to be officially referred by a medical professional, and that the prognosis has to be "terminal in 6 months or less."  That circumstance, in itself, is a lot to process.  In the last 48 hours, however, our family has had to come to terms with the idea that Grandma does not have 6 months.  It is a matter of weeks, perhaps even days.

Yesterday afternoon the ambulance brought Grandma home from the hospital to the newly installed hospital bed - the last bed she will ever use.  I spent a fairly sleepless night, as I am compelled to check on her every hour or two, just to see if she is still breathing.  This morning, we'll have a visit from a hospice care worker, which will give me an opportunity to get some work done.  As I work from home, I won't be far away, but at least I'll be able to relinquish my role as primary caregiver for a short while...