My Mom’s Birthday

My mom refused morphine for two years!

My sweet mom died almost eight years ago at age 94 of COPD. Last week was her birthday and she would be 103 years old. She was on hospice for 2.5 years.

The hospice nurses and I spent 2 years trying to get her to use a small, tiny amount of morphine.

"It will open up your airways and help you breathe more easily," they said.

"Mom, just try it once!" I said, over and over again.

She refused. She associated morphine with death. It was impossible to get her permission. I kept trying but without success.

Finally, when she really was getting close to the end, about 6 months before she died, she agreed.

She did a complete reversal, constantly remarking, "I can't believe how much easier it is to breathe! I have more energy too because I don't have to work so hard to breathe! Why didn't I try this sooner?"

I nodded each time she said, so happy she felt the benefits. I even got to tease her a few times about being a stubborn mule.

When she took to her deathbed in the last two weeks of her life, she was given larger doses of morphine for pain. She was getting more anxious and agitated at that time. It was harder for her to be soothed. Her bed sores were excruciating. She needed more comfort care in the form of drugs.

I made sure the hospice team wasn't giving her so much that she was unconscious, until she seemed ready for that. The last 4 days of her life she was no longer conscious and I was at peace with that.

We got to say goodbye and share words of love, and I felt complete.

Happy birthday Mom! I miss you! I am happy you died just the way you wanted to!