I’m so grateful to get the nightshift at Hospice. Mitzi’s husband was here all day and through the night Sunday so we are rotating. It’s not a hard job now. She has been so peaceful. No stress trying to help her through periods of agitation or terminal restlessness. Just watching her sleep, listening for changes in the rhythm of Mitzi’s breathing and making sure she stays safe in the bed. They have been keeping her propped on pillows and reposition them occasionally to prevent breakdown of her skin from pressure. “The organs are shutting down and since the skin is the largest organ, it can break down so easily.” We’ve been happy to have them turn her. Although every time, she always ends up towards her left side somehow.
I’ve been using this much-cherished quiet time with her next to me to edit a Mitzi video I’ve been working on for a while now. I kept putting it off because I knew how it would be used. And when. And I never wanted to face that that time would come. I have to admit, there were some days when I would have stuff going on in my own world and I’d be exhausted. Or I couldn’t come up with something super adventurous for us to do. And sometimes, but rarely, the hours would crawl by. Yet the calendar kept flipping. And now here we are. Finally at the place and time that was always a huge question mark in everyone’s minds, but was always inevitable. Of course now the time has flown by. In the blink of an eye. And I’d go back and live it all again. Zero regrets for the things I put on hold to be present for my pal these past 3 years.
So here I sit. Listening to her steady, shallow breaths alternate between the steady, soft melody of the waves coming from her sound machine. In my lap, I have my computer watching one of our car conversations from years ago. Listening to her carry on a coherent conversation with me is almost surreal. It feels like it’s been forever since she could speak words. In sentences. That made sense. And that followed whatever I was saying. I love listening to my sweet friend tell me anything and everything I could possibly ask with such brave candor.
Just beyond my screen is her tiny body. Inside it, all of the security guards of all of the organs and pieces and parts are doing their final systems shutdown checks and slowly signing off for good. And I am so truly grateful it’s almost time for her to be whole and healed in Heaven. I so am.
My mind can only go back to that quote about Alzheimer’s from Seth Rogan: “I think until you see it firsthand, it’s kind of hard to conceive how brutal it is.” ????
