Being at a Deathbed ?

It's hard to know the most appropriate adjective. My mother was taken all too early with cancer and I was there for her last breath. I don't really know whether it's upsetting or comforting. I suppose after the fact you take comfort from it - you had the chance to say anything you wanted to say, you were there for them.

She deteriorated rather quickly and unexpectedly over the course of 48 hours and she was at home because of it.

The 'death rattle' is a sound I'll never forget.

But there was a modicum of comfort in the sky clearing that morning and the sun coming out for its first foray into visibility for quite some time.

When I think back, I focus on the fact I got to sit by her side and talk to her and tell her how much I love her and that's what's important.

fryup wrote: »

Thanks everyone for all your feedback & comments

Its reassuring to know so many have experienced what i will soon experience...putting a brave face on it as this will be my first bereavement of a close relative and i honestly don't how i'll react when it comes to the time, my stomach is in knots thinking about it tbh

You can't really prepare for it. You will just react how you react.

Take the positives out of it as best you can and good luck with it. My heart goes out to you.

John_Rambo wrote: »

fryup, afterhours isn't the place for this, and we're all going to be in this place at some stage or another. I'm going to report your post and see if it can be moved to a more suitable place.

I hope your upcoming experience isn't to traumatic.

I have seen a lot of popular threads in after hours with similar themes.

Being with my mam when she died has stayed with me ever since. It's an uncomfortable experience in ways but I think I would hate to not have been there.

She was diagnosed with bladder cancer two years previous. I was told two weeks before mothers day that she was not going to have any more treatment. I came home again for mothers day and went back to college. I was never told how long she had. I wasn't really kept in the loop about anything. Got a phone call around 7am Tuesday morning from dad telling me it was time to come home.

You know what's horrible, feeling like you should pack stuff, but not knowing if you should pack stuff for a funeral of a person who isn't dead yet.

I had to get a bus home, by myself, cried all the way to the station. I got to the house where there were twenty cars parked in the drive. At this point it occurred to me that I didn't know what to do. What way to be. What to expect.

I got a hug from my dad before I went to see her. First hug I think I ever got from him.

She was lying in bed, as she had been every time I saw her for the previous six months. Unconscious. I don't remember everything about the day. I do remember being annoyed that there were so many people in the house, some asking where stuff was so they could make sandwiches. I remember thinking 'please go fcuk yourselves' and get out of my house. I remember my granny's husband saying no one should have to lose their mother like this.

I remember the talk from a nurse that if the doctor hadn't ignored her 'kidney infections' for so long she almost definitely would not be dying, if she hadn't just repeatedly been put on antibiotics after antibiotics.

I remember the talk of waiting for my brother to arrive, so that she could 'let go'. I remember the absolute state he was in when he did arrive.

I remember the fear. Of leaving the room to go to the toilet. Of going back to the room for the return to reality. Of having her still be in the same state. Of her not being in the same state.

Me and my sister would make sure between us not to leave her alone.

I remember the regret that I got there when she was given so much morphine that she was unconscious and couldn't talk to her again. The feeling of relief too because I would have had no idea what to say or be like around someone who's dying.

I've read on boards, since, people's experiences of being around someone who knows they're terminally ill, and the majority of them seem to say that the person was making jokes, enjoying their time, talking about things etc. But that wasn't my mother. She was absolutely depressed for the final couple of months. Not that I blame her, just I always feel a sort of jealousy. Or maybe a regret that she couldn't be like that.

She had made a remark a few weeks previous that she'd like to go to the beach on a stormy day, before she died. She never did and I don't know why exactly.

The evening was really windy and dark. I remember looking outside and thinking how nice it was. Exactly the type of day she'd like, to be at the beach for. It had a real eerie feel to it.

For a while, as people eventually left, it was just me and my sister for a while. And my granny in and out. I held her hand for the final hour. (I don't really know how long it was, you kinda don't know of times) I could feel she was very warm, dad had done overkill with the heating. She started trying to get the heavy duvet off her, and I helped. I was surprised at her movement. I feel stupid now, but I remember at that point, and many others, thinking that she wasn't really dying at all, they've just drugged her up so much. And the movement kinda confirmed she was still in there.

Not long after, it was just granny, her sister,and me. I was holding her hand still, when she opened her eyes, sat right up and looked around the room. She sat back, closed her eyes and stopped breathing. I remember listening for the next breath. And breaking into a panic attack when it didn't happen.

People on these tv shows talk about rigor and going cold. I was still holding her hand and I could feel the warmth leave. And see her skin changing colour.

There was obviously commotion from us in the room, because suddenly everyone came in. I was in a full blown panic attack, or something similar, shaking and crying. My aunt came over and gave me a xanax and told me to go lie down. I did. Five minutes later (or something like that) I went back to the room. I actually expected someone to tell me she wasn't really dead.

I remember the next day, I had to go shopping to get something to wear for the funeral.... I hadn't packed anything. A surreal experience. My aunt made me do it. I wish I hadn't.

Whatever the day was, she was in the sitting room in the open casket. I couldn't go in. I am kind of starting to regret that now. Again we all understood not wanting to leave her alone so between me my brother and sister, we made sure one of us was there.

By the time it got to the funeral I was exhausted.

Traveling to cork for the cremation, that was an experience. That was almost as traumatic. You still associate the person with the body, and then you see the casket they're in being burnt right in front of you. It's not something I would choose to see.

A week later and I had to go back to college, two months left before final year exams.


Sorry for the essay. I guess take what you will from the experiences of the people here. There's no right thing to expect, to say, to do. I don't think there's any real preparing you can do.

Been there twice. It's really ****e seeing a loved one go but I definitely don't regret being there and holding their hand.

For me it just seemed their breaths got shorter and shorter and further and further apart until the next one never came. That moment when you realise there are no more breaths is crap and unfair.

RoadhouseBlues wrote: »

Was in the hospice with my mother. We were all there. It was fairly calm. Although we thought she was gone, and then it seemed like ages after, she took another breath and then she was gone. With my father before though. He wanted to stay at home, so he had a nurse come out every night. I will never forget. The last night, I called down to his room, and I was telling him that the cats were calling outside. He loved the cats. I got up to go to the bathroom. I was gone about 2 mins, and when I got back he was gone. I have never got over that, and prob never will. I wish I was there with him. I'm sure he knows though...

Don't beat yourself up over this. I know my mam had a similar thing with my Granny. She was with her for 6 months before the end & my Granny died in the 5 minutes my mam was in the kitchen one morning. One thing that was said to us at the time was that maybe she wanted her final minutes alone & went then because of it.

I was there when my Dad passed & surreal is the only way to describe it. He'd been sick for a long time & we were expecting it but nothing prepares you for it. That said, he died with a smile on his face so he was obviously at peace & that's all I could ask for.

OP like others have said, there is no right or wrong way to react or deal with it. I hope it is as easy as it can be.

Been thru it already with both parents in the space of less than 5 years. I was only 22 the first time which is younger than most people will go thru it even once, never mind with both parents. I am not a religious person. Wasn't then; and still not now But I found both experiences gave me a religious belief that I had never had before. Loads of stuff happened both at the moments of death and over the following period. It was strange but in a good way.