Togetherness - Part II

After my daughter's swimming lesson is over, we get dried and dressed, and I take her back to the childminders and then head on to work.

On my route, as on every other day, I pass an old people's residential home. This one is special to me however, as my grandmother now lives there, and has done for the past 4 months. Tuesday mornings are even more special, as when I pass I can see my grandfather's car parked outside, visiting the woman he's loved for the last 66 years and who he has been married to for the last 60 years.

It's nice that they are still able to spend time together even though my grandfather can no longer care for my grandmother. I'm not sure if they can appreciate it though; my grandmother is dying, there is no doubt and the only question now is how long it will be.

My grandmother is very sick. As I posted last year, she had a major stroke and has never recovered. Towards the end of last year she got worse and worse and now it seems that she was (and possibly still is) having minor bleeds in her brain that were effectively enhancing the effects of the stroke.

She was in hospital for the best part of 2 months, and during this time she was heavily medicated to stop her wandering around and disturbing people at night. The side-effect of the medication however was that she lost what little energy she had and lost her communication skills.

When she finally moved into the home, they were able to take her off the tablets and my mum and my grandfather noticed an improvement. Since then however it has been rapidly downhill; she is retaining water so has put on weight; she is refusing food and medication and she doesn't want to go on any longer.

Unfortunately she is otherwise very healthy, and so she is unlikely to die quickly. Because her mother died of a stroke in similar circumstances, all of our family know that this is the way of dying she feared the most. She can't communicate, she doesn't understand where she is, and she can't remember when my grandfather last visited her so she doesn't know if he's still visiting her unless he's actually sitting in front of her.

I haven't seen my grandmother in her home and neither has my sister or N. We have been told by our family not to visit as we should not have to remember my grandmother as she is now. It's now been 9 months since her stroke and 6 months since I saw her last. Essentially she is dead to me, but she is not dead. Were I to visit, she would know who I was. She has seen my daughter recently when my mum took her in, and she recognised her but even her adored great-grandchild did not provoke a reaction. She has had enough, and quite honestly, I don't blame her.

Dr Crippen has always been against medically-assisted suicide, or euthanasia or whatever you want to call it, and I can't blame him for it - he is a doctor and has sworn to preserve life. At the moment though, I can't help but think that both my grandparents are being torn apart because my grandmother is being forced to live through the most miserable and frightening way of dying she has ever imagined. She even told my grandfather, right at the start, that she was "looking at you the way Sally looked at you". She was referring to the time when their beloved dog fell ill and, after a few weeks, was in so much pain and fear that she wanted to stop. My grandfather took her to the vets and she was put to sleep.

I know that neither of my grandparents would wish anyone to jeopardise their career, their morals or their freedom to help my grandmother, but I am certain that, had the law been different, my grandmother would have had no hesitation in saying "if I have a stroke, I don't want to be kept alive at all costs; if I cannot communicate I don't want to be here". Everything she has expressed since her stroke has confirmed everything she said before it. Sometimes being together is not for the best.