Planning my death

 Really I have thought a lot since we saw Okaasan last week.

I hope that the place she goes to next is a better environment, where she has the chance to be a human - not a vessel for tubes In/Out. And if the Pandemic will allow us more time with her. Dear Son won't do more to push the medical experts and social worker in any other direction. He is very passive on this topic.

But I know I need to actively protect MY future.

Maybe he will be the decision maker at the end of my life. Maybe I will be doing it for him. Maybe other people. But it's something I want to think about now and plan.

I found the Japan Society For Dying With Dignity and I've sent away for the membership pack. Then I can talk to Dear Son. Maybe he would like to join me in making a Living Will?

If this is a topic that interests you, here are some links:

Japan Society For Dying With Dignity

World Federation - Right to Die Societies

Time to move on

 Okaasan can move to her next "home". Maybe her last "home".

The hospital called us in last week for a doctor chat. Sitting at a small desk, with the plastic screens between us and the Doc as he showed us data on his computer - Okaasan's heart rate and other vital signs. Basically, all good.

So, as this hospital nears the end of the period in which they can claim national insurance money, it prepares to let her go and allow another institution a chance at the Money Pot.

Sorry to be so cynical. I am sure the Doc and the nurses, social workers etc are all nice people. Just doing the job in a system of elderly care. And we family members play our part. Are we doing what's right? What Okaasan would really want? I doubt it. Really, I do.

After the Doc meeting we had a brief chat to the social worker, confirming the areas of the city we would prefer for the elderly care hospital that Okaasan can be moved to soon.

Then we got dressed up like this to visit Okaasan's bedside for 10 mins. She smiled, cried a little. Did the head bobbing motion and opened and closed her mouth a few times. Her hands were muffled up in gloves to stop her removing the tube into her nose "medicine?", and the other into her arm for "food"...and the other removing her "waste". She was on a bed, on her back with bed rails and a spot of sunshine from the window. Pink curtains.

Is that good? I don't think she would think so. 

I don't think so. If this was my life. I would not choose this existence. The mercy is that she probably doesn't sense time at all. Just the now of the pink curtain, the  face of a nurse, the sunshine, the dark. Discomfort when she swallows spit.

She doesn't have TV/magazines/food. And with this blasted Pandemic - she doesn't have family visits and the jogging of memories and that happiness. Will her quality of life improve in the next facility? Will she have a TV within view? Will she have interaction with more people? Activities? I so hope so. Because I don't like the so-called life she has now.

I just read a book called "Changing the Way We Die", by Fran Smith. It's about the hospice system in America - the history of the movement, the finances, the people involved. Made me think a lot about these end of life choices.

Don't know what the answer is.