R.I.P. momwolf
It's over. momwolf passed away yesterday evening. She was "sleeping" (which is a euphemism for was just barely semi-conscious). It was peaceful, if you don't count the last two weeks.
siswolf did not arrive until several hours after "it" happened, which is probably for the better. I waited until after siswolf had gotten her to make the phone call to the Hospice on-call service. The nurse they sent out was a complete ditz, no apparent compassion, kept complaining about how late it was, and hit us with a very perfunctory "sorry about your loss" before going straight on to "do you have any of the narcotics left over, I have to destroy them."
Everybody else had been lovely. This will go on the comment card.
One of the duties of the hospice people is to contact the funeral home. siswolf had found one that's just down the street, and used her online time constructively (I was playing games and posting here to distract myself). They had a fairly nice website, and more importantly, a full-disclosure price list. After checking a couple other morticians around here, I found out that this is very unusual.
The ditzy nurse made the call, but was unable to provide most of the information, and that asking me questions and relaying the answers really wasn't working out all that well, so she handed me her cell phone so I could do her job for her.
Eventually two very nice guys in suits showed up at the house, apologizing for how long it had taken them due to the lateness of the hour (it really hadn't seemed all that long, but it does take guys a while to put on suits in the evening). He reassured me that he was a cousin of one of the names on their sign, and that he would take very good care of momwolf. I think there must be
siswolf wasn't able to tolerate the whole thing, so she hid out on the balcony. I joined her after I found out that they couldn't get the litter to make the turn into my mom's bedroom (unlike ambulance litters you can't make these things sit up to go around corners, people in rigor can't be repositioned, I suppose) and that they would be carrying her out.
After they left, I went into momwolf's room to take care of a few things ... mainly to strip the bed and throw everything in the wash, only to discover that they had taken the fitted and flat sheets along with her. I suspect this is done as a kindness to the grieving family because of the things that happen as part of what the hospice brochure called "the death process." If I had watched Six Feet Under I would probably know these things already.
If taking good care of momwolf includes not quite dropping her back in my front door because the other guy didn't engage the locks on the legs of the litter, well, okay, that stuff happens, I know it. And it could have been momwolf's last attempt to say "I don't want to go." And the guy was probably hoping I didn't notice that part.
The dude who talked (as opposed to the one who came along to help with the lifting) had that very typical calm and deep voice. They all have that. And they use it all the time (I had done a pre-commitment interview with someone in the funerary industry a couple of years back and he had that same calming tone.
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