I have been struggling coping just lately, with everything.
Today was a particularly black hole kind of day. Unable to sleep, I decided to start to write…its about the pain, anger and frustration of losing Mum last year.
She was a fit and healthy woman at seventy-eight. Always independent. She seemed fine the day before. But complained of being breathless, when I phoned her on Sunday morning. No GP so I called the out of hours helpline. They sent a medic out to check on her. Then he sent for an Ambulance to take her to the hospital.
She never saw her home again. After a month in intensive care on a ventilator, she had two strokes, a heart attack, and several other severe complications to what was initially a chest infection then pneumonia.
So Sorry Mum
I never expected this; your leaving.
That Sunday morning when we left your house
Even though you said you didn’t want to go
We all pushed you;
It would be for the best
Get you the right treatment.
So you agreed because we reasoned with you.
I grabbed your bag and your coat;
We would get you checked
Then be back home in no time.
No sirens or flashing lights
Just chatting about holidays
with the young Paramedic
As you lay there strapped in
Vulnerable and breathless.
It seemed to take forever;
It was the longest journey I ever took
They wheeled you out of the Ambulance
Into a corridor
Then a side room
Gave you oxygen
and wired you up
Then we waited
Waited for literally hours
There was no sense of urgency
Doctors and Nurses appeared
We would be going home soon
But wait, No!
They want to keep you in?
Down to the ward they wheeled you
I carried your bag
Purple tote with zips
Chiffon head scarf
Purse, pen, magazine
And your coat…
But you didn’t need it
You never wore that coat again.
You never went home
Never felt familiar things around you
Unable to speak because of that machine
That kept you breathing for twenty-eight days
You, mute and helpless as a newborn
With Nurses on shifts
Surrogate mothers tending to their young
You couldn’t fight
As the white coated Demi-Gods strutted about
Imposing invasive intellectual ineptitude
As nightmare scenarios unfolded each day
And despite all the latest
In knowledge, technology, expertise
They were unable to help you
Unable to ‘do no harm’
Mum I’m so sorry
So very sorry
I did what I thought was best
Instead of listening to you
That gentle voice…telling me
that you didn’t want to go.
S.Hobson. 6/8/2016 copyright