Mum is now in the End Stage of Alzheimer’s Disease. 
Mum has now been moved out of the ward that she shared with 3 other patients, and has a side room to herself. There is no bed in her room, but a series of mattresses on the floor that must be made up like a bed a night. She cannot use a bed now as one night recently she managed to stand up on her bed and fell off it. The mattresses also soften her fall if she manages to get out of her chair and starts wandering during the day.
Mum is now 46 kg, which is about 7 stone. I can’t believe she is actually that heavy for she is now skin and bones. Having said that, she was weighed over a week ago so she is undoubtedly less than that now. Monday was the first day where feeding became a major issue. Yesterday I watched as my step-dad tried to feed her the lunch of mashed chick-peas with gravy and rice pudding with custard. He had no luck at all and his frustration was evident. It was painful watching. She had no breakfast either. It appears that she may be unable to eat now, as those muscles are beginning to shut down.
We are now facing the difficult decision of whether to instruct the doctors to feed her intravenously (or via her nose) or to stop feeding her altogether. What kind of decision is this? We either perpetuate her suffering by keeping her alive, by forcing fluids into her, or we make her suffer by not feeding her and let her body start to shut itself down. Having to live with either decision is beginning to haunt me. It’s the first thing I thought of when I woke up this morning and it was the last thing I thought of before I went to sleep last night.
