The Passing of Life

I've been watching my MIL die.

MIL was diagnosed with lung cancer in October last year and was doing relatively ok until about a month ago. The Monday after the May 2-4 long weekend actually. All of a sudden she didn't want to get out of bed. For a couple of days. Then she started talking about crazy stuff, not knowing who people were, talking to people who weren't there, etc.

I started spending as much time as I could there. MIL wants to die at home - her son lives with her, he's 25. I think she expected that once she needed taking care of that it wouldn't be long, so dying at home seemed like the right thing to do. She never would have expected to last this long, I'm sure.

I'm spent. I'm there daily - an almost hour long drive each way - and I drop the kids at school, go - stay all day and leave in time to rush home to pick up the kids. It feels selfish of me to say this - but I don't know how much more I can take. I've been changing adult diapers, sponge bathing her, comforting her when she doesn't know what's going on..... I've been watching her chest when she stops breathing - waiting to see if it goes up again. I'm emotionally fucked up I think.

The case workers that come in occasionally say that all that there is left to wait for is the "death rattle". Death Rattle - what an awful term, isn't it? I'm TERRIFIED of hearing the death rattle, but I want this suffering ended for her. I love her so much, but this isn't her any longer. Her breathing is shallow - her fingers and toes and face have started to change to a greyish purple colour - she doesn't wake up much and when she does, just kind of stares off into space for a moment before closing her eyes again.

MIL was not just a mother. She was one of my closest friends for a very long time. MIL is my oldest daughters favourite person in the whole wide world - and this is going to devastate her, it already has. I've had calls from the school saying she's broken down in tears. So during the day, I am being strong for MIL. In the evening I'm being strong for DD. I don't know how much more strength I have - perhaps I'm not as strong as I thought I was. Don't get me wrong, she was still MIL and still did MIL things that pissed me off, but all in all - she was (is?) the best MIL I could have asked for.

My MIL was my rock when my own mother passed away. Who's going to be my rock when she goes? I'm TRYING to be her rock now. When her son won't check the diaper or clean her "private area" I am there. When she complains of things hurting I'm there. My SIL and I have begged for her to be put in a hospice so that there are professionals there all the time but her son won't do it. So we sit, I hold her hand, I watch her fade away to nothing.

And it hit me hard tonight. And I don't know now if I have the strength to go back. I don't want to be there when she passes, and I'm terrified that I will be there alone when it happens. I'm fucking terrified of that.