Her chest rises and falls sporadically. Uuuup. Doooown.

The long pauses in between are not alarming. I’ve seen it too many times.

Up. Doown.

Her nurse is actually really good. I’m not sure why I include the “actually.”
Apparently I expected otherwise.

Uuuuup. Down.

She is very attentive, explaining everything she is doing, why she is doing it, and what will happen as a result of it.

Up. Down.

She suctions her mouth and throat, leaves for a moment, and returns with the promised oxygen face mask. The nasal cannula just isn’t enough, especially with her agonal, mouth-breathing.

Uuuuuuuuuup. Down.

I think about a lot of things as I glance at my watch and count her respirations. Her stories. Ha! She had some great stories. Wild stories like I’ve never heard.

Up. Down.

How she made a liar out of me at least four times before when I thought it was her time to go. She defied every bit of my nursing experience…in a wonderful way.

Up. Dooooown.

How strange this moment is – despite caring for who knows how many people actively dying, I have never sat at a loved one’s bedside, experiencing it myself. It’s sad but also fulfilling to be beside her at this moment.

Uuuuup. Down.

How I will miss her so.

Up. Down.