![the last days of my life the last days of my life](https://cdn.quotesgram.com/img/81/17/1551207182-29357-if-today-were-the-last-day-of-my-life-would-i-want-to-do-what.png)
“It’s going to be fine, we just need to get this under control before it gets worse,” I said to each of my four sisters stretched all over the world. She needed fluids, pain medication for the mouth sores from chemo, and monitoring for her oxygen levels. They admitted her, within the first hour of being in the emergency room. My incredibly classy mom was allowing us to carry her out in public wearing chipmunk pants. I still remember her Chipmunk pajama pants she was wearing. So we carried her to the car, oxygen tank and all. The hospital was the last place on earth my nature-path loving mom would ever want to be. “I need to go to the hospital.” She said it so faintly I didn’t think I’d heard her correctly. But this time was worse, it was stage four, and even though she had far surpassed her doctor given expiration date, I truly thought this was just a bad stretch of days and that she’d be fine. She had been battling for so long I forgot what it felt like to not have the “C-word” being brought up daily. “She’s not eating.” I said it for maybe the 100th time that day, the last day she’d be in the home she shared with my dad and had built with him ten years before while she wore a scarf covering her bald head. Maybe it’s why the last nine months seem to feel like a lifetime while only lasting a second. Maybe that’s why I was surprised when it happened. But I always pushed it away before it was even fully formed.
![the last days of my life the last days of my life](http://frozenfiefdom.com/yahoo_site_admin/assets/images/P_4_Aff_of_Anna_K_S.337125733.jpg)
It’s a thought that sneaks into your head occasionally when your mom has been battling cancer for 10 years. But lately, I’m just a daughter with a dead mother.