Hi - hope you don't mind me joining? My dad died 21 years ago, my mum and my sister lived together. My sister had a rare life limiting illness that meant long periods in hospital interspersed with getting some health back before the next time.
In July my mum wasn't well, I tried to persuade her to get the doctor out but she wouldn't - eventually she agreed and was admitted to hospital. I knew deep down inside that she wasn't well.
She was diagnosed with metastatic lung cancer - at the same time my sister had a relapse and was admitted to hospital. Part of her relapse involved pancreatitis - she was transferred to a teaching hospital for more intensive treatment. They took her to theatre to insert a drain into her pancreas - she bled out and arrested. They got her back and she went to Itu.
In the meantime my mum is ready for palliative chemo and needs to come home - but she can't because my sister is a hoarder and they are knee deep in rats and used inco pads. She is also refusing carers and she has lost all her balance because of brain mets.
I had to put my mum into respite whilst I tried to sort the house out. I live 200 miles away and am a single parent with two kids working 30 hours a week, but I jiggled my hours around and with a helpful ex I started to sort the house out.
A week after going into respite my mum unexpectedly deteriorated and died. I was with her at the time.
My sister came out of itu and stepped down to a ward. I had to tell her that mum had died and sort out the funeral, finances, house,probate etc. She went to rehab and came home a couple of months later.
She was still very poorly and needed a lot of support. She eventually managed to get back to work - with a walking stick, a flipflow catheter, and an amputated hand, a degree of faecal incontinence, and weighing 6 stone.
I thought we were over the worst and had weathered it again. Spring came - she was doing really well - we grieved together for our mum.
Then one day at work the police called - she hadn't pitched up for work and knowing her history they sent someone round. She was unconscious and died shortly afterwards and I wasn't there.
I keep dreaming about them all the time and I wake up with a brief sense of relief that it didn't really happen- then I realise that it did - but for a few seconds I am completely convinced that this isn't so?
I keep wanting to tell them things -ds2 got his school report the other day and my whole body was aching to pick up the phone and call them. Sometimes I call the number anyway even though I get a disconnected tone - just to hear the familiar sounds of the beeps on the keypad.
No one will answer though.
Am I going mad?