August 30th, 2024, my beautiful teeny, tiny mother Patricia Dennette Olsen and I heard the words, your coming to the end of your season.  It’s time we consider Hospice. You have less than 6 months to live. 

For the past 2 yrs we had been fighting infections and each trip to the hospital, was becoming longer and longer stays. 

I looked at the doctor in disbelief, how could this vibrant, strong, determined woman, my mom, my best friend, my everything.  Be possibly coming to the end. 

The doctor explained that the IVs were the only thing keeping her going, her body was shutting down, she weighs 87lbs.  Without nourishment her body was not healing from the infections, and in less than 2 months time, a pressure sore we had been nursing and keeping at bay, had erupted and was worsening. Specialist came in to determine if they could do surgery and possibly do a skin graft on her.  Each surgeon denied her.  Saying it was too risky, I had brought her into hospital over the pressure sore, only to find she was septic and in shock, her vitals were so weak.  We stayed 10 days and were sent home care, to have PT and OT and wound nurse each come out twice a week, to provide her care.  3 weeks later, we were back in the hospital with another infection out of control.  We were taken to another hospital in our area.  Again a team of surgeons came into evaluate her again for surgery.  Each one said the same, she is too weak, malnourished, but this time, those words rang through my head.  Less than 6 months. 

What had started out as a stage 1 pressure sore at beginning of July was now a full blown stage 4, and worsening more and more each day.  I still in disbelief, how quickly her body was deteriorating.  My mother now had a literal hole in her tush.  I hated myself, I could have turned her more, or had force fed her, but she had always been a tiny woman in her later years. After having a gastric bypass surgery in the early 80s. I went home and cried, as I prepared us for the next stage of home hospice.  

All these fears started running through my head, how was I going to care for her 24/7 while still working.  How was I going to support our family, I had already lost a weeks pay and felt as if I was suffocating to keep afloat paying the bills. How was I going to be able to continue without my mother by my side. 

Than I realized, all that didn’t matter right now, I was given a gift of time, to let go and focus on her needs, not mine. 

Mom, if you had one last wish, what would it be?  She replied, to go to the Oregon Coast with my family and eat all the crab and salmon I wanted, eat Mo”s chowder for breakfast. She loves,  the Oregon Coast and we had not been for a few years, as her health deteriorated. 

I asked the Hospice people, if it was even a possibility, and after discussing the logistics, #Pattslastwish had begun. 

We leave in 13 days, I am asking you, to please open your hearts and donate to our cause.  I know there’s a great chance that she may pass during our trip, what a blessing it would be, for her to leave this earth, where a part of her heart has always stayed.  

It’s hard to see someone dying, and have no control to stop it.  It’s even harder to ask someone to donate, pass on that espresso or Red Bull and give to another.  My hopes that even with a few dollars in donations. This trip will be just as memorable.  To hear the ocean or watch the setting sun together, one more time.  To put our toes in the sand and take a picture of our feet together.  To sit and hold hands and hear her stories one more time. 

We are hoping to rent a van, so she can ride in comfort, rent a hospital bed, for our vacation rental for a week.  Along with getting every food or craving or item, her heart desires.  

#Pattslastwish

Thank you for taking the time to read our story. Thank you for opening your hearts and giving to our cause.  

Health, Happiness & Love to everyone. 

Tarrah