Decision Time

I'm writing this at the end of a long and emotional day.  We decided on Friday to have a family meeting with Dr. Taylor today.  He said it's routine for him to meet with the family at the end of his 7 day shift, which is Tuesday.  It has been a very emotional roller coaster over the past week.  One day we think Mom is responding to us, and the the next we don't.  One day the kidney doctor is saying she looks good, and then the lung doctor thinks differently.  We all knew that we were working towards that 10 day deadline, and really haven't seen much improvement.  With much discussion, we decided that today is the day we should remove the intubation.  To prep for this the nearly stopped her pain meds so that she would have the best chance to breathe on her own. 

The doctor had us all meet in a conf room while he went to Mom's room to talk to her.  He later told us that he wanted to meet with her on his own to ask her if SHE wanted to remove the tube.  She blinked once for "yes."

The doctor couldn't have done a better job of explaining the process to us and supporting us emotionally.  He told us that she was definitely going to die.  It could take an hour or could take months.  He told us that we should smile and be there to support her as she "returns to the Earth."  Mom would have liked that.  At one point he said, "who knows, she may even talk to us."  He said it with a tone of there was no way that would happen.

We were all around Mom when they took out the tube.  She coughed on her own, which was good, and within the hour was talking to us.  It was amazing!  She looked a me, mama and Jenn and said, "Heyyyyyy Baby."  Just like the Mom we knew.  What was so amazing is that we weren't sure that she was in there.  We didn't know what effect the high b/p and everything else had had on her brain.  She even said, "come in" when someone knocked on the door. 

We all stayed with her for hours and then decided we should start our shifts again.  I took the 9pm-midnight shift.  By the time I got there Mom has enough strength in her arms to adjust her oxygen mask if it fell down.  But she hated that mask and at one point told me to get the hell away from her when I tried to adjust it!  Then she said, "Baby, I love you, but you don't know how to do that."  I loved her cockiness!  We watched the CMT Award show.  Oh, one thing I want to remember is that sometime earlier in the week, when we weren't sure if she was responding, I asked Mom if she was scared.  She was never afraid to die and I wanted to know if she still felt that peace.  That was one of the times when I'm certain she shook her head "no."