Day 3

We're taking shifts.  My brother stays up for her last dose of morphine late at night, I get up for the early pre-dawn dose.  Seeing mom as a mere shell of herself is hard, especially by the bathroom light.

Whether in the late nights or early morning, it doesn't usually phase her to give the medicine in her mouth while she sleeps.  Instinct takes over, and she swallows it without a problem.

This morning was different, however, and it took us an hour to get her back to being comfortable and sleeping.  She calls out for her brother, Dan, or her sister, Marilyn - they're her safe people in her memory.

Hospice has still been coming around each day for a visit, checking on her, explaining to us what we might expect in the upcoming days - explaining that all of the little things we're noticing are all "normal".  They have also provided us with what has been constantly referred to as "the blue book".

It's a small book, maybe 10 pages - things to look for when deciding on Hospice care, and also things to look for once under Hospice care, to help prepare us as her family.  I read it once.  I didn't need to read it again, nor did I want to.  For these few days, I hated that book.