My name is Shaunagh... I am an End of Life Doula

I was raised with my grandparents from a very young age, in a beautiful loving home. When I was 28, my Grandfather was admitted into the hospital with heart & breathing issues.  I was with him each day for the month he was in there, and I cherished every moment & story.  He was 84 years old.

Staffing was short at that time, so I became his aid.  I was so unsure of what was happening and how to deal with my fears of what was yet to come.

If I hadn't been there, he would have spent most of his days alone.

As I began to notice changes with his body, I did my best to help comfort him and understand what was actually happening... but, without staffing and personal education I really had no answers.  Why wasn't he eating or drinking anymore?   What is he sleeping so much?  Why isn't he getting up to go to the bathroom anymore?

We moved him into a Palliative Care room, which was far more comfortable for us all, and did our best to ensure his comfort & pain were under control.  At this point I still had no understanding of what Palliative Care was or why he suddenly had different nurses that were there for Hospice.

I noticed his breathing becoming slower and slower... his skin temperature change... he slept more than he was awake.

Then suddenly his breathing really changed... I would set my face close to his, just to be able to hear them and watch his chest rise and fall.  How many times is he going to stop breathing for so long?  I was afraid and had so many questions about what was happening to him!

When his final breath came, it was so gentle.  His facial expression changed to one of peace.  The feeling of a crowd of angels filled the room, and we knew we were not alone in that room anymore.  It was the most surreal experience I had ever had. 

Then it hit me... he was gone!!!

So unsure of how to make his death "make sense", I fell into a state of grief and sorrow unlike I had ever experienced.

After 6 months of "nothingness".. I sought out a councillor to try and make sense of the loss, and to try to figure out how my life was going to go forward without him.  I had changed.

My step-father was diagnosed with Stage 4 prostate cancer.  

They lived about 10 hours from me, so I was unable to be with him as much as I would have liked.  He underwent the chemo and radiation... and just seemed to shrink away.  

I was lucky enough to have visited him about a month before he passed away.  

He fell asleep, and didn't wake up in the morning.

I was devastated that I had missed so much time with him.

I got the phone call telling me that my best friend of 30 years was gone.  

The ambulance had found her at her work truck.  From there to the hospital, they had done everything possible for her to keep her alive.  

The doctors and nurses worked for another 45 minutes in the emergency department. Then she was gone.

No warnings.  No explanations. Nothing.... just shock and disbelief.

The loss was inconceivable... The depression and anxiety returned.  

She was only 42 years old... the same age as me!!!  How could this happen? 

The grief was almost too much.  I couldn't imagine how life was supposed to go on without her... I had no one to talk to.

I watched my Dad's final battle.  He had ongoing heart issues for many years... however, his kidneys suddenly began to fail at a rapid rate.  

We had decided on palliative sedation once he was moved into a Palliative Care room, as he was very anxious, agitated and unsettled.  I didn't know until after his passing, that the failing kidneys allowed toxins to enter the body.  This explained the actions that were so different from normal.

I was more familiar with the dying process this time, and began to notice the changes almost immediately.  Staffing was shorthanded, and so once again, he would have died alone had we not been there.

I watched my Dad take his last breath, felt his last heartbeat, and then that same gentle calmness took over the room.

However... the grief, anxiety and depression now were almost debilitating.  He was only 78 years old.

Over the last year I had watched my Nana steadily decline.  I had spoken to her the night before and could tell that things just weren't right.  I called the ambulance to take her to the hospital. She had pneumonia.

The first couple of weeks seemed fairy normal and steady.  For being 96 years old, she had a routine, and definitely knew what she did and didn't want.

One morning, she told me that we needed to talk, because she wanted to stop all of her medications.  She started eating less, but was still drinking normally.  We also had an honest discussion about MAID.  I did my best to listen and understand from a place of love.  She had raised me and loved me unconditionally, and taught me how to be the person that she was so proud of.

During the 3rd week of hospitalization, she stopped drinking as well.  

A day later, she acquired the "C Diff" bacterial infection, which was an intestinal infection from the antibiotics.  

Because of the highly infectious state of the bacteria, she had to be put into quarantine.  The only room left was one in Palliative Care.

We began to use mouth swabs and ice chips to keep her hydrated. Chapstick was steady.  She was insistent about wanting to just go to sleep, and continually asked when she could go home.

My children were all there throughout all of this, and we made sure that she knew how much we loved her.  We shared memories with her.  We laughed and we cried together.

I spoke with her, and we decided to allow Palliative Sedation the next day. This would help with any discomfort and just allow her to sleep.  Her body would then be in charge of what would happen.

After the start of Palliative Sedation, the dying process began very quickly. I suppose it may have been because she was so stubborn, and couldn't be anymore.

Less than 12 hours later, her body began to shut down.  All of her family surrounded her.  We told her it was okay to go.  We held her hands and stroked her face.  Kissed her forehead. We all spoke with love in those final moments of her life.

We felt her last heartbeat together... heard her last breath. She was gone.  

Again the room was surrounded by beings we could not see but feel.  She was not alone... they were there to finally take her home.

By the end of her life, I was more aware of the dying process.  I was able to understand things more as her body began to shut down.  I was able to accept her death more confidently that I had been able to before with anyone else.

And yet... the grief took over unlike it ever had before.  I was drowning.

A close friend of mine gave me the name of her grief councillor.  It was the best call I had ever made.  We went through many sessions, both in person and over video.  Without her, I honestly don't know if I would have drown completely.  

She listened wholeheartedly, and I will be forever thankful for her gentle honestly, listening, knowledge & understanding.

If any of you are grieving, and it's becoming too hard, please reach out to a grief councillor, or feel free to reach out to mine.

She understands grief.

Her name is Lori-Ann Thompson Huot, with Hope & Healing Grief Support Services.  She is an amazing soul.