Peggy Smith (1938

Mom, Peggy, Nanna, Auntie and Mrs. Smith was admitted into Beth Israel Hospital in August 2004. My sister Janayer and my mother went food shopping at Pathmark. This was a monthly ritual which my sister shared with my mother. They both liked food and the both liked to shop! On this particular afternoon, just as my mother finished bagging her groceries, my sister noticed that my mother put her head down on the shopping cart. As my sister approached, my mother said that she felt like vomiting. My dutiful sister called for the manager and then asked the manager to call 911 because my mother was in a terrible state. The ambulance came, the groceries were left and my sister, niece and nephew climbed in the ambulance with my mother.
Prior to this episode, my mother was losing weight. She lost about 22lbs in two weeks and was in constant communication with her "Dr." about her symptoms. Her Dr. assured her that everything was fine and did not order any other tests...
I just arrived at work when I received a phone call from my sister in a shaky voice that Mom was taken to the hospital. I had to admit that I thought she had or was having a heart attack. I had prepared myself for years thinking that I would get that phone call saying that she was in cardiac arrest... Needless to say, the diagnosis was more sinister and heartbreaking than that.
I phoned my brothers and they agreed to meet me in the city so that we could go together to the hospital's emergency room. Janayer was there already and when we met her there she told us that Mom was bleeding profusely from her palate. Mom's heart rate was exceeding fast and her potassium was low ( signs that a heart attack was lurking). According to the emergency room Dr's, they discovered that Mom was overdosed on Coumadine (blood thinner) and that was the reason for her bleeding from her mouth. We all sat with her for some time and talked to the Dr. on call. They admitted her shortly after.
While she was in the hospital, the Dr's ran a series of tests on her because of the significant weight loss. They conducted an MRI and discovered a "mass" in her stomach. They did a biopsy and waited, but we knew what the mass was...
My mother was diagnosed with gastric cancer, stage 4 with a strong possibility that it spread to her liver. Not knowing the extent of the growth, we all assumed that she would begin chemo or radiation treatment immediately, but this was not the case. Mom was admitted to the hospice unit approximately a week later. My mother broke the news to me one afternoon because she asked me to come and talk to the nurse there about her course of treatment and how the hospice unit works in making tha patient "comfortable." I reeled from the words coming from her mouth... " Misey, it's terminal" I did not know what to do with that information, but hold back the sorrow and anger until the nurse and social worker left the room. I was so angered by the how the medical system failed a woman who was DILIGENT with her healthcare. She wanted to be around to see her grandkids grow up and perhaps see the birth of more grandkids in the future. She wanted to enjoy the laughter and joy her household held for her daily.
I eventually broke the news to my siblings and consulted with a stream of Dr's, Oncologists, GI Dr's and an assortment of other medical staff. All of this was to no avail because the diagnosis was terminal.
Mom was placed on a tube that drained the secretions from her engorged stomach. This tube was placed through her nose and down into her stomach. ( this was after her second admittance into Beth Israel) Mom was extremely uncomfortable with this, but she needed to have it in so that she would not vomit and rupture a blood vessel feeding the tumor. Mom eventually came home (about two weeks later) and began her time at home) Not even two weeks into her time at home, I received another phone call stating that Mom was throwing up blood. I rushed from work just when the ambulance came. I rushed into the room and saw the paramedics with the blood pressure machine and asking her a series of questions. Mom seemed alert and I guess that she was trying not to be scared at what was happening to her. I heard the female paramedic state that there was at least 2-3 cups of blood in the plastic basin by her bed. I refrained from looking at it until later and when I did, my blood went cold and I cursed the heavens... Mom at that time was also on a feeding tube, surgically placed at the bottom of her stomach. She came through the surgery fine, but knowing that she had to feed herself through this method was hard on her.
There was some talk by the Dr's that she could have her stomach removed and potentially live a longer life. When I spoke to Mom that day, she sounded like a weight was lifted off of her shoulders. Just as soon as this news was relayed to her, they determined that it was too risky to conduct the surgery. Needless to say, Mom was crushed by this news. My brothers and sister were livid that the Dr's gave her hope and then pulled the rug out from under our beloved mother.
At this point, Mom's health began a rapid decline. Beth Israel transferred her to their branch in Manhattan to manage the pain and keep a closer watch on her. Albeit Mom was still in the hospice, she felt more comfortable in Manhattan. She had her own room and the staff were more attentive and caring to her needs.
Mom's wish was that she go home for her birthday. The hospice staff and her children made every attempt to make that happen and it did 1 day before her birthday.
On the day of her birthday, we got her a strawberry shortcake. Even though she could not ingest the cake, she still was able to put some of the icing in her mouth. We all knew that it would be her last birthday with us. We tried to keep our heads up, but it was hard knowing that we would never spoil our mother again for the rest of our lives. On that day, we donned silly birthday hats and I bought Mom blue, silver and gold balloons for her room. She also wore a tiara, because she was our queen....
About a week after her birthday, Mom got weaker and weaker. She tried to use the bathroom and could not stand up. Mom, after her diagnosis would say to us that when she could no longer take care of herself that she wanted to go back into to hospital. Despite how we felt about her decision, we honored her request.
Once she was readmitted, her health rapidly declined. It was almost as if she was waiting to spend one last birthday with us before she decided to let go. The last few weeks of her life was difficult to witness. We endured probably not a fraction of what she was going through, but it was difficult to see that Mom declined intravenous fluids of any kind and also did not want the nutritional supplements offered to her through the feeding tube. We knew that Mom was essentially starving herself to death, but we stood by her, talked to her and read to her from the Bible. There was copious amounts of "I love yous" flowing from our hearts and into our mouths and to Mom's ears and soul.
On the evening of her passing, I was with her. The minute I walked into the room I began to cry. Mom at this point had been in a coma for four days. I spoke to her for a long time telling her how much we all loved her and that it was ok for her to go and meet Daddy in heaven. I held and kissed her hand and then went to retrieve a Bible from the family room adjacent to her room. I read from Psalms 23 and Exodus (these were her favorite passages from the Bible).
As I completed the last verse of Exodus, my cousin Sue came in. She said hello and went over to my mother and said, " Peggy, this is Sue. I love you" I just watched Mom, continued to hold her hand and then Sue left the room to get her son Mickey. Not even a minute after she left I spoke to Mom some more and began to feel her hand tightening around mine. I knew at this moment that Mom was passing into a realm that is without us. I told her not to be scared and I kissed her hand crying and telling her good-bye. She stopped breathing, but her pulse was still beating in her neck. I watched this until there was a pulse no more....
I called the nurse named Cookie and she came in, checked Mom's pulse and then came over to hug me. I just cried. Cried for my loving and beautiful mother, for my siblings, my niece and nephew and for myself...