The organ that failed on my mom was her skin. She had pain all over her body. She was in hospice and so was able to have morphine. We were told to keep it at a level where she didn’t have pain. We/actually I, did. I’m sure that had she not had the morphine she would have lived longer and certainly have had excruciating pain. The morphine let her relax and her last words were to Jesus, “open up this door and let me in.” I still wonder if I gave her too many of those little straws. But I’m at peace with it. God created the poppy for this reason. She was happy and at peace when she died.
I was on the phone the entire weekend with the hospice nurses making sure I wasn’t giving her too much morphine. That Sunday, a nurse came and I asked how long does she have and the nurse was hesitant to tell me (didn’t know I really wanted the truth) but told me she’d probably be back before the next day. She was back 2 hours later. But, before she left, she told me to pray the rosary with my mom like I planned (because she knew she wasn’t going to make it much longer).
We did. We said the rosary aloud and honest to God, when it was done, my mom looked at me and said Thank you, I love you. And died.
That Friday afternoon, my husband called the rectory and our favorite priest came to give her last rites and Communion. She said (when she saw him) that she had been waiting for him to come. That was also the day I called hospice and the social worker was here when the priest got here. She also participated in the last rites. My mom couldn’t swallow the host so when she spit it out I had to bury it in the backyard.
I doubt you gave her too much. The hospice nurses kept telling me I couldn’t give her too much. The dosage was too low.
Again, bless you.