by vyckie bennett

by Vyckie Bennett

Over the past two months, during the holiday season, not a single textbook was cracked open at our homeschool - we did no math drills, no phonics lessons, our Ancient Rome unit study lay forgotten on my nightstand gathering dust, piano practice was sporadic, and I don't think any of our six children set pencil to paper since sometime before Thanksgiving. With all academics set aside, our whole family sat at the feet of the Great Teacher and learned priceless, life-changing lessons based on the Fifth Commandment: Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.

On Thanksgiving Day, we had a lovely family gathering at our home. Following a delicious meal of the traditional turkey, mashed potatoes & gravy, candied yams, cornbread stuffing, and cranberries, we spent time in praise and worship as our good friend, Roger shared a Thanksgiving message on Psalm 100. This special time of fellowship was made all the more sweet because my grandmother, Charlene was able to join us. Grandma had not been to our house in over a year due to her failing health. Mom and I had never been certain as to Grandma's spiritual condition, so it was a real blessing that she seemed to truly enjoy the songs and sharing of scripture.

The following day, Grandma was admitted to the hospital. We thought that she may have suffered a stroke, but a CAT Scan revealed stage IV lung cancer which had spread to her brain. Grandma was given a life expectancy of about three months and was admitted to St. Joseph's nursing home. When family members offered to care for her at home, Grandma insisted that she did not want to "be a burden" to any of us and said that she wanted to be at the nursing home. Grandma was very insistent about her wishes - even calling in her lawyer to appoint me as her power of attorney for health care since she felt confident that I understood her "advance directive" to receive no treatment which might extend her life and to not be resuscitated.

During her stay at the nursing home, I visited Grandma nearly every day, often taking the children with me. Our 19-month-old, Lydia Jean was a favorite of the residents. Our oldest daughter, Angel spent many hours sitting with Grandma and listening to her stories. Berea (10) and Chassé (9) made Christmas cards and Get Well Soon cards to decorate her room. Our Happy Hazelle (almost 6) loved to share a cup of hot chocolate with her great-grandmother, and Andrew (3) was Grandma's "Cowboy" since he always wore the same pair of cowboy boots whenever he visited.

Grandma's condition deteriorated rapidly - she suffered much pain which caused her to become anxious, the tumor in her brain affected her vision and was causing her to become confused and paranoid, she lost the use of her left side so that she could not walk on her own, she could no longer hold up her head when she was sitting so her chin rested on her chest. Some days were better than others and on her bad days she mostly just laid in bed trying to sleep. Grandma was becoming quite depressed because she needed almost constant care which the nursing staff was not able to give. One day, the aides left Grandma sitting too long in a chair after giving her Milk of Magnesia - Grandma tried her best to wait, but ended up making a huge mess which was very humiliating for her.

Two days before Christmas, I called in the morning to ask Grandma how she was feeling. She sounded calm and cheerful, so I told her that I would be bringing the children up at lunchtime to perform the carols and play that they had learned for their homeschool Christmas program for all the residents in the cafeteria. When we arrived, Mom was already at the nursing home along with my brother, Jim and his wife, Iris. Mom immediately drew me to the side and told me that Grandma was being very negative - cursing and saying all sorts of awful things about the family. As the children played carols on the piano and harp, Grandma became more anxious and was crying.

It was apparent that Grandma was in terrible pain - she became combative with Mom and, as we were taking her back to her room, she was cursing and blaspheming and threatening suicide. "I hate this place! I'm getting out of here, one way or the other!" The nurses gave her some Xanex to calm her down along with extra pain medication.

My brother was so distressed by the situation that he determined that he would get Grandma out of St. Joe's. We all went out for pizza to discuss the situation - when we returned to the nursing home afterwards, the nurses informed us that they had found Grandma with the cord to the nurse call button wrapped around her neck. They had called the doctor who ordered a shot of a very powerful narcotic to knock her out. Grandma was declared incompetent and all future health care decisions were to be made by me.

The next day, Christmas Eve, I was stopped in front of the nurses' station by Father Joel, the priest who ministered to the Catholic residents at St. Joe's. It was an eerie experience as he began telling me about a fellow priest who had brain cancer - this priest was being treated with radiation and chemotherapy. "It's not right - the doctors are only prolonging his suffering, but not his life. Pretty soon, he'll be here at St. Joe's." I didn't know why the priest was telling me this, but I had a very strong feeling that what he was saying to me was important. Fr. Joel ended the conversation by telling me that it was not right to leave a cancer patient in agony from pain, "If you have to give your grandmother morphine for the pain, and that morphine causes her respirations to cease - you are not giving the morphine to stop her breathing, but to stop her pain. That's the right thing to do, and God understands."

On Christmas Day it was apparent that a huge spiritual battle was raging. I had to make a decision regarding Grandma's care - Jim wanted to take her to his home, but I had many reservations about that plan since his wife, Iris is from Honduras and does not speak English very well. I was worried that Iris would not be able to manage Grandma's pain medication, in which case, my mother, who lived nearby, would need to decide when and how much medication to give Grandma. My mother has never had a good relationship with her mom. Mom's a wonderful, loving Christian, but when it came to Grandma she was not always rational - so I worried that there would be a lot of conflict between Jim & Iris and my mother.

Warren, my husband, had determined to try to relieve some of my stress by caring for the children - but he was also under a great deal of stress so the household seemed very chaotic. I felt so oppressed! I became tense and snappy. Although I had planned to go early to visit Grandma for Christmas, I did not actually get bathed and dressed until nearly dinner time. Angel had prepared a nice dinner which we ate in silence interrupted only with jabs and snide remarks - it didn't seem much like Christmas!

By the time I made it to see Grandma it was nearly 7:00 p.m. When I entered her room, Grandma was sitting up in front of a tray of food - her head was hanging and she was moaning in pain. I requested pain medication, but was told by the nurse that it was time for a shift change and someone would be in to bring the medicine "as soon as possible." Grandma complained that the food was horrible and she could not eat it - so I sent Angel to the cafeteria to make her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

While she was eating the sandwich, Lydia tripped over Grandma's serving tray and fell on her bottom. "Ow! Lydia hurt her bunns!" she exclaimed quite clearly - this really set Grandma to laughing. As she picked herself up off the floor, Lydia very sweetly looked to me for comfort, "You kiss it, Mommy!" Grandma laughed at that until she cried. Although the nurses never did show up with the pain medicine, we had at least been able to comfort and cheer Grandma somewhat by our expressions of love and concern.

When I returned home, Warren and I stayed up past midnight praying and discussing the situation. It was obvious that the nursing home was not providing adequate care for Grandma. Finally, we made a decision - we would bring Grandma to our home. Not knowing how long she might be with us, we were somewhat concerned that with six children and a home business it would be difficult to keep up with the care of Grandma, but we had resolved to do our best, knowing that God would give us strength to minister to Grandma in His name. I called Jim in the middle of the night and he quickly agreed to come early in the morning to help us get a room ready. I slept very little that night, but I was no longer stressed - I felt the Lord's peace that comes from knowing that we'd made the right choice. The spiritual battle was over and from that point on I experienced no stress or conflict but only what I felt were the ministrations of the angels which must have covered our home during Grandma's stay.

On Wednesday, Dec. 26th, I went early to the nursing home and asked Grandma if she'd like to come home to our house. She was hesitant at first - she was still reluctant to "be a burden" to our family. I told her that we were more than willing to care for her and reassured her that Warren definitely wanted her at home with us. "He's so sweet," Grandma said as she smiled.

Next, I went to the Social Worker, Mary, to inform her that we would be taking Grandma out of the nursing home. I had expected opposition, but to my relief, Mary seemed pleased with my decision and set to work right away to get the discharge order. The details took all day - waiting for the doctor's release, admitting Grandma to the Hospice program, clearing out a room near the bathroom and equipping it with a bed, dresser, etc. When I went to the pharmacy they gave me a heavy bag full of medications to be given to Grandma at various times and under certain conditions - I felt overwhelmed with the responsibility.

It was after 8:00 p.m. when Jim carried Grandma into our home and seated her in her old cushioned chair which we had brought from her house. Grandma expressed concern that she would be too much of a burden for our family - while I told her I was worried that having the children around all day, every day might drive her crazy. "Well, then we'll all go crazy together!" she said, "I'm glad to be here. Anywhere is better than that nursing home."

Grandma was hungry, so we fed her and then got her in bed with the help of Jim and Iris. I set my instruction sheet for Grandma's medications on the kitchen island and studied it intently. When she needed to use the bathroom, I decided that Angel and I should take her to make sure we could handle the job. Grandma only weighed about 100 pounds - but she was so fragile and easily bruised. Because Grandma couldn't use her left leg, we had quite a struggle getting her out the bedroom door and into the bathroom. I have a weak hip and feared that it might give out and we'd both fall over, so I had to ask Iris to take over. I told Jim that I didn't know how we were going to take care of Grandma when Angel and I together could not get her to the bathroom. I was sure that Warren could move her - but Warren is blind, so it would be awkward and probably scary for Grandma.

"I will live with you, Vyckie," Iris offered in her heavy Hispanic accent. "You need my help, and I love Grandma so much." This seemed to be a fine solution temporarily, and I figured that later we could arrange for a Hospice or Home Health worker to come in and help. We made up a bed for Iris in the office and Jim left for the night.

Grandma was visibly more relaxed. She was relieved as we settled her for the night in a regular twin bed (she had bruised herself terribly on the rails of the hospital bed) and shut out all the lights so she could sleep in a darkened room (the lights at the nursing home had kept her from sleeping well for nearly a month). I asked Grandma if she wanted the door closed to keep the children out, but she insisted that she wanted her "little angels" to come in and out of her room whenever they wished.

Mom came early on Thursday morning - she had stayed up late recalling all of her experience as a nurses' aide and thinking of ways to make our job of caring for Grandma easier. While I fed the children breakfast, Mom and Iris got Grandma up to the bathroom and then set her in her chair in the livingroom. Grandma was in good spirits and we all laughed and enjoyed each other's company.

Around noon, a Hospice nurse came to evaluate our situation and see what she could do to assist us. She arranged for us to get a wheelchair, a shower transfer chair, and a bedside commode. Also, a CNA would be coming at eight every morning to bathe Grandma and feed her breakfast while I got the children up. After the nurse left, Grandma was very tired, so we got her back in bed and Mom went home. Iris cooked authentic Mexican Chalupas and Guacamole for dinner while I kept the children relatively quiet and checked in on Grandma periodically.

In the evening, we brought in some disposable undergarments for Grandma in order to eliminate some of the anxiety that she experienced whenever we got her up to use the bathroom. Grandma was relieved and joked with us about her new "diapers." Later, as we were tucking Grandma into bed, Lydia repeated the conversation that she had heard earlier, "Grandma has diapers!"

"That's right!" Grandma laughed. I offered her a drink of juice from a spill-proof cup with a straw.

"That's Grandma's bottle!" Lydia exclaimed - by now Grandma was holding her sides with laughter. "Put Grandma in a playpen!" Lydia's innocent remark sent Grandma into hysterics and she again laughed until she cried - as was so common when Grandma and Lydia were together.

"Yes, Sweetheart - your Grandma's like a little baby now. I've got my diaper and my bottle - now I need a playpen!" Grandma went to sleep contented that evening after receiving hugs & kisses and lots of "I love you's" from her six great-grandchildren. Iris spent the night again, and our plan was to teach Warren how to move Grandma the next day so that Iris could return to work.

On Friday morning, I woke up around 6:00 to the sound of Grandma's moaning. She was in pain again although she was wearing a Duragesic Patch. I decided to give her some Darvocet, but when I put the pills in her mouth she did not swallow. About that time, the baby started crying, so I woke Iris and asked her to help Grandma take the pills. It took nearly a half hour to get the pills down and it was obvious that Grandma's condition had worsened overnight. She was not talking and her eyes were not focusing.

At 8:00 a.m. the CNA arrived to give Grandma a bath. It was quite a challenge, even with Iris's help. They set Grandma in her chair in the livingroom and the aide left. Grandma was freezing after her bath so I warmed a blanket in the dryer and draped it over her. Iris used the blow dryer to dry Grandma's hair and combed it out nicely. She had her hair permed at the nursing home and now she looked so pretty. I thought about taking a picture, but knew I was out of film in my camera. I truly regret not getting out a new roll of film and taking that picture.

Chassé, who is our "family nurse," wanted very much to feed Grandma her breakfast. Unfortunately, Grandma was so tired she told me that she wanted to go to bed and sleep all day - which is what she did. When we offered her food, she refused it. When we tried to give her sips of water, she choked and told us, "No." Her body was shutting down and she had lost her ability to swallow.

I called Mom and told her that Grandma seemed much worse, so she came right away. Jim came too. He told his boss that Grandma needed him and he was taking his vacation days from work. Jim spent the whole afternoon and much of the evening in Grandma's room with the door shut. He didn't want us disturbing her to check her "diaper" or to turn her and he wanted absolute quiet from the children - which we tried to accomplish, but after many hours Mom told him that we didn't think Grandma wanted the children silenced and that others in the family (especially his wife) wanted to care for Grandma also.

When Jim let us in Grandma's room we changed her and turned her - she was terribly stiff from lying in one position for so long and she moaned when we touched her. She hadn't had any pain medicine since morning and the Patch clearly wasn't helping. After checking with the Hospice nurse, I applied another Patch.

Mom and Jim both decided to spend the night - since I knew they could take care of Grandma, I shut and locked my bedroom door intending to get a good night's sleep. The house was quiet, but my thoughts were not. The Hospice nurse had provided materials which detailed "Signs and Symptoms of Approaching Death" - from that list, it was apparent that Grandma would not be with us more than a few days. The reality of the situation suddenly hit me - Grandma was going to die here in our home. For a brief moment I wondered if this was such a good idea considering the young children - would they be scared? would they be traumatized? would they have nightmares or be plagued with thoughts of death? Immediately I was reassured in the knowledge that God had called us to do this and He would provide answers and comfort for the children.

On Saturday Grandma was much the same - unresponsive, immobile, unable to talk or swallow, sleeping much of the time. We all took turns staying at her bedside, talking, singing, reciting scripture, and just being with Grandma. Chassé spent most of the day in Grandma's room. She was concerned that Grandma was not eating or drinking, "If she doesn't eat, she'll die of starvation." I explained that Grandma was dying of cancer and that was why she was not able to eat. Chassé cried and said she didn't want Grandma to die. I showed her pictures of Grandma's mother and father - her great-great-grandparents - who had passed away years ago. "Grandma is going to see them and her brother, Jim. She also has a baby who died in a miscarriage - soon Grandma will meet her son or daughter. Jesus will be there and she will be very happy." I believe that Grandma heard the conversation because she smiled when I spoke of Heaven.

In the evening, my sister, Sandy, and her family came to see Grandma and we all shared a meal. Grandma was becoming very restless - Iris and I saw tears running down her cheek and we knew that she was in great pain. I hugged Iris and we cried together. I had applied yet another Patch and offered to give Grandma a Tylenol suppository - to which Grandma clearly said, "No!" So I called the Hospice nurse and asked what more I could do. While we waited for a return call from the nurse, Lydia Jean went into Grandma's room and said "Hi, Grandma!" Grandma smiled and reached her hand out. Then Lydia said, "I love you, Grandma!" and Grandma, as best she could, said, "I love you too!" - it was a very touching moment for all of us.

Later, Jim stopped me in the hallway, "Hey, Vyckie - was that you in there with your eyes leaking?"

"I can't help it!" I started sobbing all over again. Jim comforted me with a hug and soon all the children were gathered around.

"Why is Mom crying?" "We've never seen Mom cry before!"

"I've seen your mom cry before," Jim told them, "but not as a grown woman - she's always been the strong one."

The Hospice nurse arrived around 9:00 p.m. with a supply of morphine injections for pain relief. She showed Mom how to give the shots as Mom had trained as an LPN and seemed the obvious choice to "do the deed" - however, when it came down to it, Mom could not bring herself to give her own mother the shots, so then it fell to me to give the injections to Grandma.

Before I gave the first shot, the Lord brought to remembrance my recent conversation with the Catholic priest. When Fr. Joel said, "If you have to give your grandmother morphine for the pain..." I had envisioned a nurse at St. Joe's asking me if she should give Grandma a shot of morphine - never did I imagine that I would be the one to actually give the injections. Knowing, as I did that morphine can arrest a person's breathing, this would have been an enormous ethical conflict for me had it not been for the priest's words. I do not subscribe to the Roman Catholic faith, but I do believe that God used that encounter to prepare me in advance for the abhorrent job of administering pain relief to Grandma by injecting her with morphine.

On Sunday morning we had a time of fellowship with some friends - reading scriptures and singing hymns. The singing seemed to bring comfort to Grandma and she was more restful. Also, the morphine was doing it's job of relieving her pain, although we were all reluctant to give it to her. We tried many other comfort measures - more blankets when she was cold, and a cool washcloth on her forehead when she was feverish, back and leg massages, soothing words and music, etc. When Grandma would become restless and anxious - we still hesitated, but after awhile felt it best to give her more pain relief.

While I was caring for Grandma, Warren spent much of the time with the children. Most of the time they played cards and board games - and watched way too many videos! We did ask a friend to take three of the children for a couple of hours, but otherwise, they remained at home with us. Warren encouraged them to spend time with Grandma, but Mom and Jim often shooed them out of her room. Only Chassé was noticeably affected by the goings on with Grandma - she spent a lot of time in Grandma's room rubbing her forehead, brushing her hair, straightening blankets, etc.

Angel, who is 16, kept herself busy taking care of Lydia and entertaining the younger children. She experienced grief at Grandma's condition and had some difficulty confronting the reality of Grandma's impending death. Angel actually encouraged Mom and me by recounting numerous conversations she had had with Grandma about faith, Jesus, and salvation. Grandma had always claimed to be a Christian Scientist and I had explained to Angel some of the doctrines taught by that false religion. Angel, in turn, had asked Grandma during her stay at the nursing home if she believed these heretical teachings. "That's ridiculous!" Grandma exclaimed - and then she told Angel how important it is to trust in Jesus Who died for our sins - "It is not good works that will get you into heaven - you have to have faith."

Berea and Hazelle did not pay too much attention to the situation - they both knew that Grandma was dying but neither of them were overly contemplative. Berea did spend some time with Grandma and cried after her death, but Hazelle just seemed to accept everything that happened without becoming upset. Andrew was quite pleased that Grandma was with us because he had given up his bedroom to her - now he was sleeping downstairs in Angel's room which was really cool. Occasionally he would go into Grandma's room to say goodnight or just to look at her. Several days after she came, Andrew commented, "Grandma's sure sleeping a long time!"

Lydia Jean was a frequent visitor in Grandma's room. With a little finger to her lips, she would shush us, "Grandma's sleeping." Several times when Grandma was moaning in pain, Lydia would say, "Grandma got an owie - poor Grandma! Lydia kiss Grandma's owie." She was not at all troubled by Grandma's ghastly appearance as she kissed her great-grandmother on her cheeks and forehead.

By Monday it was obvious that Grandma was in agony. We could actually feel the tumor growing on Grandma's head - a spongy spot about four inches in diameter and getting bigger. We also saw a reddish lesion growing on the roof of her mouth. Grandma could not rest at all and moaned continually. Fr. Joel's words continued to play over in my mind and finally I made the decision to give Grandma the shots at regular intervals - every two hours. By giving the morphine in this manner we were able to keep Grandma comfortable without the long stretches of pain between the time the medicine wore off and the next injection took effect.

By evening, Grandma was much more peaceful, but her eyes were glazed over and she was completely unresponsive. Her breathing was rhythmic, but shallow. We were all wondering just how long she could live - this was her fourth day without water. The Hospice workers had told us that sometimes the dying person will wait until they have "permission" from loved ones. Mom thought maybe we should each tell her that it was okay to leave us. I responded that Grandma had always been pretty independent - at the nursing home she was ready to help herself out of this world much faster - so I didn't think she needed anyone's permission to die. We were also told that some people do not want to die in the presence others, so periodically, we told Grandma that we were all going to have lunch, etc. and then we would leave her alone for a couple of hours. I had not been out of the house since we brought Grandma home, so I took a "break" by going grocery shopping with Mom.

Iris thought maybe we should call a priest to give Grandma "last rites" - Iris is not Catholic either, and we understood what she meant. We called our good friend, Pastor Tom who heads the local Rescue Mission (our own church had dissolved late last year and we have not yet settled on a new church home). Pastor Tom visited with Mom, Warren, the children and me - consoling and encouraging us - and then went in to pray with Grandma. She did not respond much, but I know she heard as he prayed and once again explained the Gospel to Grandma. The two times that Pastor Tom mentioned "peace" in his prayer, Grandma seemed to sigh with a longing - she also smiled and seemed comforted.

Jim thought that Grandma must be holding out for the New Year. It was New Year's Eve, so Jim stayed up until midnight and wished Grandma a "Happy New Year." It was a bit awkward. We all kissed Grandma and headed for bed. I continued the injections every four hours through the night.

On New Year's morning the CNA arrived early to give Grandma her bath. We had run out of morphine and were having difficulty getting more as the pharmacies were closed for the holiday. We sent Jim - unshaven, wearing a beanie cap, looking highly suspicious - on a "drug run" for Grandma. Amazingly, he was able to get the prescription filled at the hospital pharmacy - must have been the Lord who arranged that because we were later told by the Hospice nurse that morphine is never released to "civilians" and normally we would have had to go through the proper channels which would have taken hours.

While Jim was out getting the morphine, Grandma was in terrible pain (the nurse told me that she suspected the cancer had spread to her bones which can be excruciating). Mom and I took turns reading to Grandma from the scriptures which seemed to calm her. When Jim returned, it was necessary to give the morphine every hour in order to bring the pain back under control. We found an Oldies station on the radio, and Mom, Jim, Iris and I were all present when one of Grandma's favorite songs came on and she smiled and was actually moving her foot to the beat of the music. This cheered us all greatly.

By late afternoon, Grandma's respirations had slowed considerably and she was beginning to have periods of apnea. Grandma's breathing was shallow and we could see that she was not getting much oxygen because her face was ashen with purple patches around her eyes. A Hospice nurse named Angie came to evaluate Grandma - her blood pressure was down, pulse was faint, respirations were less than twelve per minute with 10 - 12 second periods of apnea. Grandma was not responsive, but not in a coma as she continued to groan and cry in pain whenever we moved her. While Angie was observing her, we began to hear the "death rattle" - we were all close to tears, but I tried to keep things light by telling Grandma, "You're starting to percolate."

It was getting late, and Warren wanted each of the children to say goodnight to Grandma and give her a kiss. I held back tears because, although the children were unaware, I knew that this was probably their last moments with their great-grandmother. We got the children in bed and I looked at my watch - the hour had gone fast and it was time to give Grandma another injection. Angie stopped me, "Her respirations are so slow that I can't guarantee what that morphine will do to her." She assured me that Grandma was past the point of feeling pain and I was relieved to be freed from that burdensome duty.

After several hours of keeping vigil, Angie decided to leave for the night. Mom, Jim, Iris, Warren and I all said our goodnights to Grandma - it was difficult to leave her, but we knew that she was at peace. Iris checked on her at 6:30 in the morning and then went back to sleep. We went in around 8:00 a.m. and found that she had died. We all cried together, but we also felt relief - it had been a long, tiring week and we were all drained, physically and emotionally. Spiritually, however, we were on top of the world - the Lord had richly blessed us as we faithfully attended Grandma on her journey to His throne.

As we were getting the children up and fed, Angie returned to take care of the final details. She confirmed that Grandma had died, notified the police, and called the mortuary. The children each went in to see Grandma - they seemed upset, but not devastated. When I asked Berea if she wanted to say goodbye to Grandma, she matter of factly said, "Grandma isn't here anymore - she's in heaven now." Chassé cried more than the others - she remained in Grandma's room where she received much reassurance from all the adults. When Mom and Iris went in to clean Grandma up, brush her hair, straighten her gown, etc. - it was Chassé who lovingly closed Grandma's eyes.

After Grandma's body had been taken away to the funeral home, Lydia Jean entered her room, "Where's Grandma?" When I told her that Grandma was gone, Lydia became upset and tugged at the blankets which had been pulled up over Grandma's pillow, "Grandma under there?" I told Lydia that Grandma had gone to be with Jesus in Heaven. "Bye-bye, Grandma," she said. "I love you, Grandma."