The end

I spoke to Mum last on Tuesday night.

I thought I had better. I mean I had been putting it off since the 19th when I should have called to say thanks for the anniversary card.

Mum had neither written on the envelope nor inside the card, getting a carer to do it, I guess.

We spoke of her health and my work. She said she was fed up and in pain. We know now that was the truth.

We spoke for about 5 minutes, then that was it. I rang off.

Wednesday evening, Jools called at quarter to seven and she told me there was a message from the care agency that Mum had been admitted to hospital. Nothing more.

This is not an unusual event, but when Jools called the hospital, she found that Mum was in Intensive Care, and once through she was told Mum was in a critical condition.

What we know now is that she had collapsed at some point and her carer found her. But it took a while to get Mum onto the floor to give CPR. This meant many minutes went by when there was no oxygen getting to Mum's brain. I am not blaming anyone here, just saying what happened.

Therefore it was strongly suspected Mum had severe brain damage at best, and so with a bleak outlook. The family were advised to attend if they could. She was fitting constantly, and she was on strong medication to stop that too.

I could have gone. I was on the Isle of Wight, I could have dashed, but they said Mum was so deeply unconscious, she was probably in a coma, and had been before the carer found her. From that point on she was in no pain.

I called the ICU on Thursday morning, and was told by the senior nurse that, in her experience, there was only going to be one outcome. But, they were going to take her for a scan to see brain activity and see if there were any bleeds. I would be called at lunchtime, but was told that I would be asked to make the difficult decision.

The morning passed and the senior doctor called me. He said there was no hope, and they wanted to stop treatment. She was only being kept alive my the machines. Jools said she wanted to be there, I said I didn't, not because I don't care, but she would know nothing. So, the doctor said they would keep treatment going until Jools arrived, but if Mum had another cardiac event, then there would be nothing they could do.

Accepting that, Jools set off from Hythe, and I got back to the last part of work for the day.

I spoke to Jools just as the final meeting was ending, she said she was an hour away from the hospital, and would let me know.

I was on the ferry, just coming into Southampton when I received the message from Julie, Mum passed away at 18:45.

They had stopped treatment, he breathing got slower, her heart slowed, then quickened briefly, before the lines on the readout slowly flattened.

She was gone.

Julie found out Mum had had another significant heart attack fairly recently, and that according to her blood work her kidneys were hardly working. Her circulation had been very poor too.

The doctor said she was in such poor physical condition, she could not fight the final cardiac arrest. Over two decades of living on shortbread biscuits, Pringles and cigarettes took their toll, as did sitting in the armchair for 23 hours a day.

And now, none of it matters, all too late.