Our whole life, we have decisions to make. Some more important than others. To be honest, because of my perfectionist nature. I sometimes struggle with them. I always fear that I might either regret my decision or make the wrong choice. I became a perfectionist because of the upbringing I had. My Mom used to say, “You either give your best or just don’t do it…” Because of those words, I have always strive to do the best I could in whatever that I’ve committed myself into.
Recently, because of my Mom’s health condition my Dad has been struggling with making decisions involving her. I know where he’s coming from because when Laurent or Saint is unwell, despite knowing what I should do, I will confide in my husband. I think sometimes, we all need some assurance as we’re scared of making the wrong decision no matter how sound they may be. After all, we’re all just humans and we will eventually make the wrong choice.
On Tuesday, 8th of December 2020 just a day after Mom was discharged from the hospital she had a fever and wasn’t eating or drinking and it got my Dad worried so he contacted the Palliative Doctor to come and check on Mom. He also called me over to their place to listen to our options which were only 2. Take her to the hospital or stay at home and Symptom Manage her pain and condition. If we chose the 2nd option, a Subcutaneous Cannula would have to be inserted into her arm so that we could administer her pain meds through it whenever she needs it.
Hearing that it will only help her manage pain and not treat her infection and fever sounded like a death sentence to me and I hated it. I’m selfish and I still want to give my Mom a fighting chance so I told my Dad that I think she should go to the hospital to get proper treatment. So, we ended up calling an ambulance to the house to bring her to the hospital.
Never have I ever imagine having to send a family member to the hospital in an ambulance. When at the hospital, the nurse cleaned and changed my Mom’s Bed Sore dressings. They even put oxygen tubes in her nostrils. Dad had to sign a do–not–resuscitate (DNR) order as well. Hearing that broke my heart and I failed to held back tears. I felt like we’ve lost the battle that we fought so hard for the past 5 years.
Where do we go from here? What do we do? Just the thoughts alone hurts so much.
XoXo, VAS
La Bella Vita 