Not long after I wrote that post, she passed away. I wish I could say she went to sleep and died peacefully.
She did not.
She went downhill very quickly. Plummeted is a better description.
Tuesday, the day after Presidents' Day, she was placed on hospice for her COPD. They were hoping that they would have her condition and medications stabilized at the end of the 90-day hospice period.
Friday morning she ate a full breakfast. Friday afternoon her pastor stopped by for a brief visit. Friday night, she was bedridden and unable to walk.
Mom and I slept in the study with Nana in a trundle bed on the floor. It was the longest night of my life.
Saturday we got her in a nursing home. The hospice nurse tried arranging 24-hour care for her, but it was a weekend. She had difficulty finding people to work.
On Sunday, a number of friends and family came by the nursing home to see her. She was unconscious and in a coma. The only medications she was receiving were to maintain her comfort.
Sunday night, after Mom and I returned home, her nephew called us and told us she had passed. It was about 11:30 p.m.
Earlier in February, Nana had told Mom that she had only 27 days left. She died on February 27, twenty-eight years and six days after her husband.
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