Gabrielle has entered a phase, which the hospice nurse calls terminal restlessness. She will be lying quietly, as if she is sound asleep, and then sit bolt upright and want to move somewhere else. She will move from the couch to the easy chair (with assistance, of course), and we get her all settled and tucked in. She puts her head back and has a peaceful, dreamlike look on her face, but then literally two minutes later, she is on the move again. Sometimes, she stays in one place for half an hour to an hour, but then shuffles around a bit. Happily, these restless episodes are punctuated with periodic stretches of sleep lasting for several hours—usually on the living room couch, or in bed. Right now, for example, she is asleep on the couch (it’s 7:45 AM), after a fairly restful night’s sleep.
The hospice nurse mentioned that this is a fairly common phase that people in the terminal stages of life go through. OK, I’ll say it: “people who are dying go through”. It’s hard to describe her in those terms, but clearly that’s the situation. The nurse said that in this phase, people often talk about needing to find their keys, or pack their bags. They mention that they are going somewhere. It’s almost as if that the need to get ready for a trip is a metaphor for life’s final journey.
As before, her pain appears to be under good control. She still has no appetite, and it seems that the only liquids she wants are those to keep her mouth moist. We accomplish this with small sips and also from those little pink sponges on a stick that hospitals love (no, we didn’t steal them…hospice gave them to us). I don’t think she is suffering, and that’s so comforting to see. I feel so blessed to have such great kids to help with Gabrielle. It is also nice to know that there is such a great hospice team focused on making her remaining time with us as comfortable as possible. She loves her home, and this is where she wants to be. I find solace, in the midst of these dark times, that we are able to provide that for her. It sure beats being in a hospital with tubes, IV machines beeping and people interrupting sleep at odd hours to get vitals or draw blood.
In the time it took me to write these paragraphs, Gabrielle has sat upright at least ten times and has booted me out of the easy chair. Then she got up and moved to the other couch in the family room. Earlier, when she was on the other couch and sat up, I sidled up next to her. I put my arm around her and told her that I loved her while I stroked that cute head of hers (hair is coming back in). I then said that Daniel was upstairs, out of sight and asked her if she wanted to do some smooching. I got a little smile, in return, but no action. I pecked her on the cheek and tucked her back in, where she stayed for a few minutes.
And now, just for fun, a couple of pictures from our trip to Greece in 2015:
I just love the idea of getting a "genuine fake"! This was outside the place where the Virgin Mary is said to have spent her final years. I wonder if they sold genuine fake Gucci sundials in her day?
Gabrielle "doing" Ephesus. This is the main street, and I think that's the library in the background...one of the largest in the ancient world at the time.
On Mykonos. What's in the bag, Gabrielle?
Just what I thought! She let the cat out of the bag!
After a tough day of sightseeing and putting up with Steve's lame jokes, it is nice to repair to the lounge of our cruise ship. Straight orange juice? Hardly! Mango margarita!
