Dear [Name],

In my last email, I shared what happened when my 97-year-old mother chose to refuse treatment for Influenza A, a UTI, dehydration, and a rapid, irregular heartbeat. She decided this would be her pathway to transition—into the next chapter, in another realm. I was hoping she could experience what some call a “good death”—as conscious, peaceful, and comfortable as possible.

The Unexpected Strength of Her Spirit

Despite the situation, my mom’s heart rate dropped back down from 170 to 80—something the hospital doctor said wasn’t possible without medication. She was unexpectedly strong. Returning home brought her relief, and I was comforted knowing Hospice care would check in every two hours. I didn’t yet understand why they recommended hiring someone for round-the-clock support.

Hospice organized a company to supply oxygen and they brought in a wave of supplies:

Oral sponges
Non-petroleum lip balm (non-flammable)
Gloves
Bed pads
Dry shampoo
Lotion
Incontinence briefs
Tiny syringes to offer small sips of water

Note: Oxygen makes people more comfortable when their respirations are compromised, but it dries out the nose and mouth. It should always be bubbled through water to humidify it. I found that the water bottle had run out at some point and no one had changed it. Luckily there was an extra sterile bottle of water so I changed it myself. Probably not suggested though.

The Reality of Hospice Care

Care providers rotated in to reposition and clean her every two hours, though they were often stretched thin. Some were experienced and skillful; others were still learning. As an RN, I was grateful for my background in caring for bed-bound patients, but I was also exhausted. I slept very little.

There wasn’t time for caregivers to provide a bed bath, oral care, hydration, or the close symptom observation I needed to offer homeopathic support. Morphine could be administered every 2–4 hours, but only if my mom was awake or if I was present.

I chose to help with the care and be as kind and supportive as possible—even at 3 a.m. I felt my mom’s influence as a thought came to me, “You catch more flies with honey.”

Questioning the Standard Protocol

Hospice has set protocols—as mentioned, morphine every few hours is assumed. While it can ease suffering, it often leads to a coma-like state and has some unexpected side effects.

For patients in Hospice for months, drug side effects can accumulate and cause more symptoms.

When you choose a different path—like using homeopathy for end-of-life care—it takes courage and inner trust. You have to be ready for some push-back.

The Sacred Process of Transition

The stages of death follow a familiar, recognizable pattern that you can look for. Hospice provided lots of helpful information about this. But, the journey is unique for each being.

For the first few days, my mom could still answer questions, sip water, and reflect. She was able to acknowledge visitors for a bit. On the fifth day, she looked over at me and asked in a frustrated voice:

“Why is this taking so long?”

I said, “I don’t know, Mom. I guess, like birth, it takes its own time.”

She was quiet for a while, then smiling she looked at me and said, “You know what I was just told? — That I will be surprised how fast it goes.”

She radiated peace and joy. I could see a white light surrounding her and feel a field of Grace permeating the room. I could tap into that Grace in the middle of the night and feel it strengthen and sustain me.

A Heart-Centered Blend of Remedies

My mother trusted her homeopathic doctor who stayed in close contact with us. When anxiety or pain arose, she accepted the remedies offered.

My mom had always been very sensitive to the side effects medications. So, I was especially relieved to learn that there is a remedy — Chamomilla — that alleviates the sensitivity to pain and touch, and the intense irritability that develops often with the use of morphine.

I started noticing that if I rubbed my mom’s head, which she normally enjoyed, she would pull away and grimace. Also, she was moving her shoulders as if she was in pain, but didn’t really like them to be rubbed. She seemed so uncomfortable but, thankfully, that was alleviated

Homeopathic remedies that supported her journey:

Arsenicum Album – Calms the fear of death and the unknown, eases anxiety and restlessness, thirst, and internal heat. (Also used for flu symptoms.)
Antimonium Tartaricum – Clears rattling mucus and eases labored breathing and air hunger.
Nux Vomica – Eases painful cramping, spasms, and irritability.
Chamomilla – Soothes acute irritability and sensitivity of mind and body, and pain—especially from morphine side effects.

These remedies can often provide relief and prevent the need for traditional medications at different stages in the transition process.

If I had more experience, and a supportive care team in place to monitor her needs—and give me a chance to rest—it’s possible we could have avoided the use of morphine. It bothered me to see her knocked out by a drug.

Learn More About Holistic Palliative Care and Homeopathy

Here are some resources I found that have information for both caregivers and those in transition:

The Final Moments

After nine days, I realized this process of transition might continue quite a bit longer. I gratefully received help from some angelic friends who came for a few hours to give me a break. They sat with my mom, sang, prayed, talked and even rubbed her feet.

On the 12th day around 6 a.m., a caregiver woke me to say my mom’s breathing had changed. I got up and sat with my her and read her favorite Baha’i prayers. Her respirations were rapid and shallow, but not rattling. At 7:08 a.m. on February 8th, I was at her side when she took her last breath—her spirit finally free.

Although there were some glitches, my mom did indeed have a “good death.” As it was, I am happy that we could use both homeopathic and allopathic (traditional) medicine as needed to keep her comfortable.

Shout out: Dr Sadhna Thakkar, Hospice of the Foothills, Eskaton, and Chapel of the Angels for their care and attention.

What’s Next?

In Part 3, I will discuss my own process of grieving and the amazing healing of long held family patterns that happened for me.

If you have any questions or need support, please feel free to contact me.

Warmly,
Leslie

Part 2 of 3: A More Holistic Approach to Dying