Medicated depression, day #557
I was back at the office today, all alone at the office. Parsed my inbox, most of it I could toss right away, as notifications from our internal chats and updates from systems, nothing interesting except to one single mail.
Mailed a bit back and forth with HR about my time reports for last week, when I took care of mom, had to move hours away from vacation time, to a new column which were tagged "care of relative" or similar. As I sought compensations for those days, hopefully they are approved and paid out.
I miss mom. I think about her and what I'd talk to her about .. but then remember she's gone. At the same time I also remember that I could not ask her very much the last couple of months since she's been in and out of consciousness and somewhat demented. She's always been there, always supported me even while I didn't want support or even her presence .. she had her quirks but they were of a good kind, very strict about stuff and knew what and how she wanted stuff.
I guess I inherited some of that, my son says I'm strict but that he loves me for being strict, as I always explain why something needs to be strict and such.
The last couple of weeks were hell, I got pictures etched into my retina of mom in full panic, shouting for help, rocking back and forth, immersed in panic and angst .. "help me, help me, help me..." a mantra she repeated when she was in huge pain, I could only hold her hand and ask her what I could do for her .. I'm not sure she even heard me.
When she passed, she was merely just skin and bones, she used to be chubby and had weight issues all her life after me and my brother were born. She lost most of the weight when she got the cytostatica treatment after they operated on her to remove the first cancer growth, it almost killed her, the doctors had said that it would either win over the cancer or it could kill her bowls .. she quit the treatment a few weeks in as she could not keep any food down, always nauseous and vomiting. The doctors gave her "a few weeks to a few months" without it and had counted "35 metastases", I thought it was in her whole body and learned very late that those 35 were just in her leg where the first growth had appeared. She probably had hundreds all throughout her body, lungs and brain. She hung in for about two years, when given just weeks.
She also got to meet her newest grandchild last Thursday when my brother and his partner crossed the country in a hurry to let mom meet their newborn son, just 4 days old. She smiled and appeared switched on and there, asked a few questions, including the name of the boy but since they haven't decided on that yet they couldn't give her a name .. a few minutes later after they peeled away to feed and change diapers, mom sank back into doze and never came out of it again. For her the mission were accomplished, she had lived long enough to meed her new grandson.
Sunday morning she didn't react when nurses were washing her and changing dressings, slight mumble, never opened her eyes. Just an hour later she passed, as her wheezy breath stopped. Minutes later she was gone.