Mom's passing

***These are most of the important details, as I remember them, leading up to Mom's death. Some of you may not be interested in all the detail, but I included it for my own benefit so that I won't forget it later.***

On Thursday night, January 17th, Dad called to tell me that he was taking Mom to the hospital. She had been feeling sick all week and her headache had become unbearable. Dad, the eternal optimist, told me not to worry if I didn't hear anything that night. "No news is good news." I worried a little anyway. Shortly before 8:00 the next morning, Dad called to say that a CT scan showed some sort of mass. My "little" bit of worry grew. I called Nathan (my husband) and asked him to come home so I could drive to the hospital to be with Mom and Dad.
I arrived close to 10:00am and spent the morning with Dad and mom's friend, Bobbi, in Mom's room. We chattered around Mom assuring her that she didn't have to talk or entertain us. She was happy to keep her eyes closed. The light made her headache worse. I don't remember the exact time frame for everything that happened that day, but, I think it was sometime around 11:00 when we were told that Mom's MRI would be scheduled for sometime after noon, but we wouldn't know until about an hour before it was to actually happen. In the course of that conversation, the nurse referred to the mass as a tumor. As far as Dad knew that was the first time anyone actually labeled it such. It was close to 2:00 before they started getting Mom ready for her MRI.
As we waited for her to be ready for her transport, a nurse showed us pictures of the CT scan that clearly showed a rather large tumor. Having a brain tumor is never good news, but, in this case, the nurse told us that it wasn't the worst case scenario. She said that it appeared to be fully contained and didn't act like a cancerous tumor. It should be relatively easy to remove (as far as brain tumors are concerned).
We walked along as they transported Mom to her MRI. The transport aide had a hard time finding the MRI room and we wandered aimlessly for awhile. Finally, she figured out where it was. Mom was dropped off and we went to wait in the waiting area. I can't speak for Dad and Bobbi, but my mood was hopeful and optimistic. A nurse came to get us when the MRI was through and we went back to the room with Mom.
Mom was clearly worn out. Her headache wasn't getting any better and the lack of sleep wasn't helping. We decided to leave Mom alone for a while in hopes that she could nap. We walked around a little and ran into my friend's husband, Brad. He was there to pray with an individual from his church and took the opportunity to pray with us as well. Mom still needed her rest so I rubbed her feet a little and told her we would see her later. We did a little more wandering around the hospital and peaked in a Mom quietly (Dad straightened her blankets a little) before sitting in the lounge area to wait for the results of Mom's MRI.
Again, I don't specifically remember the timing of everything, but I think it was after 5:00 when Mom's primary doctor called us. She told us the the MRI showed a meningioma. She told us that they would be scheduling surgery for the next week, but that they needed to wait for Mom's clotting factor to increase. Mom was on Coumadin to prevent blood clots that tend to form on patients like her with mechanical heart valves. They would take her off of that medicine and give some other medicines to counteract the blood thinner. The doctor also mentioned that there was some bleeding that was noticed when they looked at the MRI. This was very concerning for them. Due to the complications that could arise from the effects of the blood thinner, they had decided that they should move her to the ICU so that that could keep a closer watch on her. While we were on the phone with the doctor, we heard a code called out over the intercom. After getting off the phone, we noticed at least 10 medical staff rushing down the hall. The number that was called out wasn't Mom's room, but we noted that someone was in trouble and the three of us prayed. After a minute or two, we decided to walk down to Mom's room. As we headed that direction, we noticed that everyone was headed toward's Mom's wing. When he turned the corner, we could see that they were all rushing to her room. I don't think I'll ever forget that moment. My legs felt weak and I grabbed Dad's arm. I know I said something like "Oh no", but I don't remember specifics. Someone in a uniform asked if we were family and told us that we should go sit down and that someone would come and update us in a few minutes. It was a long "few minutes" as we cried, prayed and analyzed every item taken out of a closet right across from the waiting area. We saw someone take an oxygen tank and wondered if that was good news or bad news. Finally, Mom's nurse came and told us that she had come to check on Mom and that she had been unresponsive and that was why she called the code. Then the neurosurgeon came a little later and said that Mom had stopped breathing, but that they were stablizing her with a ventilator and would be taking her for another MRI to see what happened. They suspected that it had been the additional bleeding that they were worried about.
Once she was stablized, they moved her to ICU. About that time Brian arrived and Dad called Pastor Bert. Before the MRI, the neurosurgeon came and told us that the tests that she had done on Mom showed no brain stem activity and that we should be thinking about "end of life" issues. In the meantime, they would do the MRI to find out, conclusively, what they were dealing with. When she left, we cried and prayed for a miracle.
We prayed for healing for Mom. Even after the final MRI results showed an "irretrievable situation", we still prayed for a miracle. Dad, Brian and I, along with Pastor Bert, Terry, Shannon, Bobbi and Georgia, gathered around Mom's bed in the ICU and prayed and sang. God chose not to heal Mom here on earth. Shortly after midnight, the ventilators were turned off and Mom's heart stopped beating. Mom was immediately with Jesus.

Why I write

Writing has always been cathartic for me. Somehow, just putting my thoughts down on "paper" (now computer screen, I guess) gives me a chance to really think about whatever situation I'm dealing with and see it a little more clearly. I also do it because I know that if I don't I'll regret it when I look back later.
Dealing with the sudden and completely shocking death of my mother is changing me. By God's grace, these changes will be used to bring Him glory.