The Whole Switzerland Experience- Part Three

Wednesday was rainy in the morning but sunny by early afternoon. Mom woke up saying “I’ve changed my mind”, looked at our faces, and then laughed uproariously. I’m sure she planned that all night. We ate breakfast about 7:30 and then went upstairs to wait in the room until it was time to meet the people from Pegasos at 9:45. 

We met in one of the breakfast booths. “J” was there with the paperwork, and she confirmed everything before we left for the facility. We were joined by “H”, who had been our point of contact since mid-February. The five of us went to a cab, waiting behind the hotel.

The cab driver was a sweet old guy. “J” sat upfront with and talked with, giving him directions and conversing in German. All the conversation on the trip was light and friendly. “J” had lived in southeast Asia, and had seen her mom and grandmother through their last stages of life. She took the job with Pegasos because she was committed to being with people and helping them as they died. “H” had moved to Switzerland from the US and still had family living there. He was a med student and was both learning German and doing practicum to be able to practice medicine in Switzerland. Both he and “J” were very kind and low-key. We talked a lot about rock climbing, and Mom and I strongly suggested that “H” give it a whirl, that he seemed to have the right personality and aptitude for it. He said he would accept his friend’s offer the next time the friend invited him to the indoor climbing gym in Basel.

We were in the cab about an hour, first stopping at a pharmacy to pick up medication and then to the Pegasos facility in the hills outside of Leistal.  It was a newly-built facility- the bottom floor was a garage with an elevator going up. The second floor was a living room area and small kitchen on the right heading out from the elevator. To the left was a large room with an office table, lots of forms, and a tiered candy dish with Lindt truffles. Mom enjoyed the heck out of those and that was the last thing she ate. The space was clean, the vibe not overly cozy, but also not a sterile hospital feeling. In an alcove to the right of the table was a hospital bed, made up with a comforter and pillows. The open room was all windows on two of the sides, with glass doors leading to a pasture and a rock retaining wall. The facility was uphill from the pasture, and there were apple trees in the distance, and wildflowers all around. Even with the intermittent rain, there were birds who flew up to the windows and looked in and then flew off. Everything was so green with the new springtime. I’m glad Mom waited till April. It was a beautiful place. We got there about 11:30, and spent the first half-hour filling out forms.

Rudy, the head of Pegasos, came by at noon, as did the nurse who set up the medication. At about 12:30, the nurse asked Mom if she was ready to move over to the hospital bed.  Mom said she was, and she went over and laid down. 

The nurse showed Mom the cord that Mom would be pulling to release the medication, a fast-acting barbiturate. She had Mom practice pulling it, which she did with intention and gusto. Once everything was set up, the nurse told Mom that she could do pull the cord anytime she was ready. My mom pulled it with no hesitation, and it was a matter of about 30 seconds and she was gone.

I had talked to the nurse about ten minutes earlier and was surprised to learn that it would be that fast. I do regret is that I didn’t tell my mom know how fast it was going to go. Based on our experience with pets, we had been thinking it would be a drowsiness, and then she would drift off. But with VAD, the person is required to be cogent, and take the last step themselves, unaided.

I could tell by Mom’s eyes that she felt that it happening. She looked startled and a little scared, but seemed to reach acceptance, then her eyes closed. If I had to hazard a guess on how it was for Mom, I would say it was like having a stroke or sudden heart attack, a shock, but over quickly.

I was crying. Cathy was crying and the nurse told me “She can still hear you.” I whispered in Mom’s ear, still holding her hand, how much we loved her, what a great mom she was, what a wonderful life she’d lived, what a great human being she was, how hard she’d worked through her life to heal and grow,  and that she done a such a good job with this life. I whispered in her ear maybe 30 seconds or maybe a minute, then the nurse nodded that it was it, and that she was gone.

Cathy and I, stunned, moved to a couch between the front door and the table.  Rudy came over for a few minutes to console Cathy and me, and then Cathy and I took a walk. We walked for about 15 minutes, up the lane through the pastures, past the flowering apple trees, passing a husky man pushing a wheelbarrow of rocks, and then walked back to the facility.

We checked in with the nurse, and with “J”, and “H”, then I went out to call Bob.  He didn’t pick up, so I next called Tom. Tom and I talked for about 10 minutes or so. I let him know that it had happened, and that it was very peaceful, which it was.

Then Bob called back and I talked with him for a bit. I was so glad to be able to hear his voice. We had to stay at the facility for about 45 minutes until the authorities could review video of Mom’s death and confirm that it was not a crime scene. We had more forms to sign and things to turn over to Pegasos to have forwarded to the US Embassy. When that was complete, “J”, “H”, Cathy and I went back with the same sweet cab driver to the hotel. 

When we left, Mom‘s body was still lying in the bed, her mouth fallen open, and Cathy and I both kissed her goodbye on the forehead. It was so hard to leave her there. Her body was to be collected later by the funeral home that would be handling the cremation.

On the way back, “J” told us about her family, including her son. He was about my grandson‘s age and one of those awesome quirky fun kids, like my grandson. And she and “H” talked in English about a get-together that was going to happen, I believe with Pegasos people and other organizations that provide VAD. We took the backroads to the hotel, instead of highways. It was beautiful, driving up in the hills and through the countryside. The rain had stopped by then, with intersperses of drizzle, and Cathy and I were both pretty rung out. We parted ways with “J”, “H”, and the cab driver at the hotel and Cathy and I went upstairs and just looked at each other.

It was so surreal, like “Did that really happen?” But yes, it had. We spent some time deciding what to do with Mom‘s few possessions. We left behind a raincoat, a purse, a scarf and a few other small things. The gentleman at the front desk told me to put the items in the storage room near the front desk, to be collected by Pegasos to be donated. When I put them in the storeroom, I saw another bag in the storeroom with “Pegasos” marked on it.

We pretty much filled the hotel room trashcan- her old backpack, which had seen her through so many trip, but which no one else would ever want to use. It was a Jansen Sportpak, and she had taken it to Italy, and every place else she’d gone, both with my dad and on her own after he died. We threw away her wig. She left it on her bedside table when we went to the facility. Mom was so much prettier with her real hair. I’m glad that that’s the way she went out. Some things came back with me- her medication, hearing aids, daily reader. But she traveled so lightly to Switzerland, that there was not much to take back, pass along, or throw away.

It was cool and damp outside, and Cathy and I walked over to the same café we’d eaten at with Mom on Monday night. On Wednesday evening, Cathy and I sat inside, surrounded by people who were with loved ones and friends, chatting, and laughing with each other. We were more subdued than the rest, but still enjoying our time. Both of us had that salad with the julienne vegetables. Tuna salad on top for me, and chicken salad for Cathy. The woman taking care of us said they were out of that delicious bread for the day, and when I was so disappointed, she went in the back, and opened another loaf. It was warm in the café, and dry, with the windows misty on the outside from the cooler, damper air. Afterwards, we took one last walk. We got a little lost, without Google Maps, but did manage to get ourselves back to the hotel.

We read and looked at videos till bedtime, attempted to sleep, and finally fell asleep. My daughter Jenni called at 8 pm St. Louis time, 3 AM Swiss time, and I was awake from then on, which was okay.

We had packed on Wednesday evening. Thursday morning, we went down for breakfast with our suitcases at 6:30, paid the hotel bill, and met the cab driver, which the front desk staff had arranged for us the prior day. 

It was a rainy forty-minute ride up to the Basel airport, but our driver was very competent and friendly. He didn’t speak much English, but he smiled a lot and nodded. He dropped us off, and we followed the crowd inside, figured out where to check in at Air France, and boarded the plane taking us from Basel to Charles de Gaulle Airport outside of Paris.  As when we flew into Charles de Gaulle, I could see the Eiffel Tower, Ile de la Cite, and the Seine River. I thought of ten years ago, 2015, when Bob and I flew to Paris for vacation for my sixtieth birthday, and the thought made me happy and wistful. We went through passport control in France, had enough time to do a little walking in the airport, then onto the plane to Atlanta. Another long flight, but they fed us well. Cathy and I both got the last servings of chicken and the guy next to us ended up with eggplant.  I have no regrets about taking the chicken. We flew out of Paris to the north, over the English Channel, across the cliffs of Dover, up past Ireland and Scotland and either Iceland or Greenland. It was daylight, about 2pm, and I had a window seat, thanks to my husband, Bob.

Heading south on the North America side, we were close enough to the coast that we could see the Atlantic Ocean, the Boston metropolitan area, and even Manhattan. After that, we started heading inland, arriving in Atlanta as the sun was setting, through customs and passport control with no problems, rechecked our bags, through TSA again and waited for our flight to St. Louis. It was running a little late, but no problems, and we got into St. Louis at about 9 pm. Bob, dear sweet wonderful Bob, met us outside of TSA.  We collected our bags checked through from Basel, and headed home. First stop was to drop Cathy off, and then finally back to our house, about 11 o’clock at night. With the time change, it was pretty much a 24-hour day.

I slept so well. Waking up on Friday morning, the whole thing just seemed like a really weird dream, but it wasn’t. Mom is gone. I promised that myself that I would take Friday and that whole weekend just to recover and practice really good self-care. And I pretty much did only that.

By the time I finished speaking this brain-dump into my iPhone notes, Mom had been gone three weeks. A lot happened in those three weeks- divvying up furniture, Cathy and I (with some assistance from Peggy and from Estate Liquidators) cleaning out Mom’s apartment at Bethesda Gardens, getting her obit over to Webster-Kirkwood Times, talking with the estate lawyer, calling her friends from her phone book, letting AA Central Service know for their newsletter, canceling monthly and quarterly charitable contributions on her credit card, letting her brokers and CPA know, letting Social Security and Medicare know. Cathy handled some of it, thank God and I’m so glad she’s back in town and that she’s my sister. I received Mom‘s ashes three weeks after she died, in a big wooden canister with a small padlock. The ashes came via US mail, originating in Switzerland from the crematory through DHL Delivery. At three weeks, we were still waiting for receipt of the embassy’s official documentation, a CRODA- “Consulate’s Report of Death Overseas” in order to move forward with all the financial items, but the other items related to my mom’s actual dying were done.

I met my friend Susan for coffee and that felt real.  She listened and I talked. Part of my mind is still stuck in “What was that?”  But now I can stop, shake it off, and get present to the beautiful springtime here in St. Louis- the rain and sun and flowers. I saw the first hummingbird at our feeder today.