Roses

My aunt loves roses and grew them in her backyard in the desert. (There are heat resistant roses available; a neighbor of hers once insisted on growing English roses, spent a fair amount of money on them and then watched them die in the heat and relentless sun.) Her friends who have come to visit have cut and brought the blooms with them. The living room smells of roses. 

Yesterday she developed chest pain, likely due to the tumor infiltrating into her chest wall. She is now on regular doses of morphine and benzodiazepine (for the anxiety and agitation). Hospice is coming daily. She is taking liquids by mouth but very little food. 

We vacillate between long hours of nothing as she sleeps punctuated by a concerted effort to get her to the toilet, calm her, change her clothing. I pass the downtime by cleaning the kitchen and clicking from Facebook, to Twitter, to email. The house is hushed. It is a waiting game now. 

I hope her passing is peaceful. 

Labels: Cancer, Family, Medicine