This was a post I always knew I’d make some day but now it is here. I can’t even say I wish she had stayed longer, life had been pretty miserable for her for some time now, but it still hits hard. I keep looking around and finding all the things I won’t do with or for Darcy again. I pet the cats and tell them Mommy is gone but they don’t understand. I think of something and the first thing I want to do is tell Darcy about it then realize I can never do that again.
She had been getting very weak over the past 2 weeks and by Friday she could not stand at all even when being held. That’s when we called the paramedics to come and take her to the hospital. We knew this was the end, she even told me to call a certain nurse over at dialysis who had the name of a hospice service to use.
By Monday Darcy was losing focus and tuning out of conversations, I thought it was because they had kept giving her morphine when both of us told them not to. With no functioning kidneys it builds up in her system until she starts spacing out. Last time they did that she started coming back by the next day. By the end of Monday she was in the nursing home but her unfocused look was getting worse. I told her I wondered if they had still kept giving her morphine instead of just the vicodin they were supposed to be giving her. She shook her head no and I asked if she was just tired and she shook her head yes.
I stayed with her a couple more hours until her son, Phil could get there to relieve me, I had been with her all day at the hospital and was pretty zonked. The next morning, Tuesday, I went over there, expecting her to be more coherent and she wanted to take a ride to the beach for a few hours. But instead I found her completely non-responsive. I couldn’t even get her to blink yes. The hospice nurse said this was very typical, as if the body puts out it’s own morphine before death that keeps the person from suffering. She said she could tell the end was near by her labored breathing and that she wasn’t suffering by her placid face.
She looked terrible, so bad I can’t even hold it in my memory, that wasn’t my Darcy. My Darcy was alive and vibrant, a force to be reckoned with. The nurse also said she could go at any time or last several days. By 2:30 she was gone, two days before Christsmas, and the world is a far lessor place because of it, but few will ever know that. It’s better that she went quickly but I sure would have liked to have given her that last trip to the beach.