(Nothing like leaping into the middle of a conversation about which you know nothing, but hey, it's late, and I'm sleepy and waiting for son #1 to get home)
My mother was on a lot of morphine the last months of her life. And while she didn't try to walk through walls, she did get very feisty and tried to do an Irish jig as the aide and I helped her to the bathroom. SHe fell with us on top of her, and I said, Oh shit. She said, "Watch your mouth, missy." Her toe turned black, but the doctor said, "Your mother is dying of cancer, a broken toe is the least of her worries." when I called him.
The morphine did awful things to her personality. My father's, too, when he was dying. He threw a washcloth at my mother in front of the priest and humiliated her. He also swore there was an angel standing by his bed. He kept telling it to sit down and got very irritated with it for not listening to him. Morphine seems to make you peremptory and impatient. Or maybe that was just my parents. |
