One Final Parental Lesson

Today, with the advent of better health care, older people are living more productively and healthily.
I see my mother, a very beautiful woman, gracefully aging. She never seemed to be aging, and at the age of 78, she was healthy and still active, except for minor aging-related problems.
One day, my mom called me and said frankly. You will have to bury me. At that time, I thought I was 78 years old with bonds, but just looking to the future, it was very practical as usual. What my mother didn’t tell me is that she has cancer. His cancer was pancreatic cancer, the same type of cancer that killed actor Michael Landon. Funny, mom smoked, and we always joked about her death from lung cancer.
Pancreatic cancer is extremely dangerous. By the time it is discovered, it is too late and one of the most painful. In the process of illness, our role has been reversed. I became a caretaker and father.
My mother was alone and was able to take care of herself about three months after her diagnosis. One night he called and said he hadn’t eaten for three days. He got out on the road within an hour and was in Buffalo eight hours later. I think the hardest part for me was meeting my mom. This vibrant, beautiful, smiling man was 77, 50 years old, old, fragile, and sitting down, so I cried. Suddenly, at the age of 55, I faced the loss of my best friend, her mother. In a sense, I was watching my own death, but suddenly I realized the importance of time and life.
I didn’t expect her mother to be her old. She was always there, my pillow, my rock. Throughout everything that happened, she was there, good and bad. Her advice may not be what I wanted to hear, and sometimes I know she didn’t think I heard it. But I did it. And as I grow older, I find myself very similar to her. She has many ways. She can be good or bad. The next day I took her across the street. She was hospitalized and went to her hospital where she was detained for the next three weeks. His room overlooks his apartment. I could almost stand in the parking lot and greet her. Visit:- https://dignitywave.com/
Every day I saw her spill a little more. He fought the lost battle in pain, but he did not give up the spirit of his battle. I was watching the hardest part. See a very vibrant and energetic spirit that slowly gives way to a devouring and devastating illness.
As the disease progressed, we could only drop lumps on his arms and legs, we started seeing it. She didn’t fight much because her mom was size 10 and had more or less her body fat. The human spirit is wonderful. It gets stronger when everything else starts to disappear. One of her begins to wake up. Three weeks later I brought her home. Before I picked her up, I packed the bedding I knew she liked and made sure I had her brush, she has beautiful long hair, Not completely silver yet, and her beads. The next time she closed her door, the next time I passed through the door, she realized she would move her belongings.
Then I traveled almost constantly for eight hours. We didn’t stop except for Gas and she stopped smoking. The next three months were the most physical and painful of my life. During the 16 weeks I saw her daughter fall into a coma and thought she was ready to face all the difficulties life could give me.
But nothing, nothing could prepare me.
I first cleaned, bathed, fed, then picked up, read, stroked and hugged, and now it was my turn to do the same for her.
As the pain increased, we turned to the nurse for help. But pain is his own teacher, and no matter how many painkillers we administer, it doesn’t matter if it works for a very long time. When the body suffers, we get worse. We don’t want it, it’s not my intention, but the pain is cruel and we attack to stop it.