by Sparks In Shadow

Photo by Origamidon via Flickr

“Your mother shouldn’t have a feeding tube in hospice.”

“The doctor …”

“… wasn’t thinking. And she needs to take her morphine. You need the rest.”

“She won’t.”

“You’re in charge.”

Back inside the bedroom, the nurse filled the dropper. “Time for your medicine, Mrs. Gray.”


“Open your mouth.”


“You’re complaining about constant pain. This will help. Open your mouth. Now.”

Her patient’s lips parted, trembling.

“There. You’ll feel better soon.” She checked the network of tubes, contents of bags, then with weary eyes faced the caretaker. “The next dose will be easier. Give it on time.”

The daughter nodded.