annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Monday again already Here we are still. I'm writing on my phone as my laptop has gone mental and thinks there's no internet. Things here are incredibly difficult in waves then I kind of numb up involuntarily, then I keel over again and so it goes. Sam has had a few lengthy periods of exhibiting behaviours that could be signs of the end but then she stops and goes back to how she was. She still has a urinary tract infection and a massively bloated belly and sleeps most of the time, apart from when she doesn't. I looked up "signs of approaching death, infection," and they're mostly things she doesn't do anyway. Loss of appetite - she's fed through a tube, a set amount, and has been for several years. Loss of thirst, ditto. Failure to recognise people - happens all the time, has done for ages. Drifting down into silent sleepiness, yep, last year has seen loads of that - there is more now but she's taking half a ton of morphine and that might do it. She hasn't spoken more than the very occasional single word for a couple of years at least. Which leaves difficulty breathing or noisy breathing and loss of colour in the skin and these come right at the end, apparently. I try not to keep turning the covers back to inspect the colour of her legs but my ears are finely tuned to the sounds she makes and the sudden cessations of them. Nightmare. On red alert the whole time. Can you believe I am writing these things about my daughter? Me neither, but what else am I going to do or say? They gave her a bath today and dropped the syringe driver into the water. That got em all going, I can tell you. Sam slept through it - she was barely awake for the bath though she had assented to the idea with enthusiasm. One of my friends died last week and I only just found out. I went into town to try and buy something to wear to the funeral but didn't succeed, ending up going a bit mental in Marks and Sparks. Sitting down on the stairs sobbing then phoning my pal J who has been away for ages and blurting it all out to her, with weeping, still sitting down on the stairs until I was exhausted and purged of it all. But I am too fat now for ordinary shops and can only fit into a few summer frocks I've worn so much they're faded and shapeless and don't convey the sadness and fondness and respect I have for the lovely woman whose life we will be celebrating. Meh. I could eat a biscuit or two right now but I don't have any. That's all. I am grateful for: the sea; pain relieving drugs; a temperate climate; sleeping pills; numbness 11:41 p.m. - 03.07.17 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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