I was my mother’s healthcare proxy, and the medical community followed my decisions even if I had no idea what was up or down or right or wrong. Still, both a palliative care nurse and a geriatric specialist suggested hospice to me. My mother’s oncologist had only...

She had also started talking to us with a shrill, theatrical voice that made her sound like she was extremely sick and weak. I had habitually reminded her to “use her strong voice.” Her response every time was to immediately readjust her pitch and tone and sound like...

So, we continued to make it happen. But if I had to be completely honest, I felt like I was filling a dog bowl for a pet every time I left her a sandwich to go to work. And her hygiene was poor despite us giving her a sponge bath a couple of times a week, and her...

Because of the intensity of the trial and the fact that it was clear my mother was no longer able to live independently, we tried placing her in an assisted living facility. A monthly fee of $5,000 without the option of any healthcare coverage bought us at least 20-25...

The time had finally come when even my mother, with her decreased mobility and inability to safely shower or even grab dresses from hangers in her closet, couldn’t argue that she was unable to live on her own. We went through a series of home health aide services that...

My mother’s next oncologist was a keeper, as his kindness and compassion and tendency to not descend into madness in response to every test result seemed to be better suited to my mother’s needs and a better fit for my nerves. He initially placed her on an old...

We moved her into a one-bedroom, third floor apartment that was around a five- minute drive from us, in Westford, a neighboring town. We experienced a bit of déjà vu, with more antique doll-related drama and hysteria that this time featured my husband accidentally...