By Susan Ellis of KeyLifeJourneys

Rule #1 - never make promises to a person who is dying, that you cannot or don't intend to keep.

It is 6.30am as I write the first draft of this post at a table in a coffee shop. I have a heavy bacon/egg/cheese muffin before me and a black coffee. Through the window I see black silhouetted buildings back lit by an increasingly paling blue pre-dawn sky. The gliding snakes of headlights from drive-through traffic are endless.

Night is endless to the person who is dying and cannot sleep. Tammy is afraid to take sleeping pills and tranquilizers for fear of losing control. In her confusion she still wants to think straight. There is no pain to recommend the balm of opiates. The night staff has tried all techniques to induce calm and sleep.

Shortly after 5am my phone rings. "You promised me you would come if I ever needed you." Tammy says. I have done so. I shake off sleep.

Once at her apartment I finally persuade her to sit in her reclining chair and pop a tranquilizer under her tongue. I sit with her as she relaxes, fully aware that I am the one she counts on to make everything right. This isn't my ego talking. It is not a responsibility that I cherish. I am well supported and there are others who would share the role. But everyone knows I am her rock. In her position I would want someone like me around. One needs just one person, one constant figure in a sea of changing faces and insecurity. One needs a safe harbor before one cuts oneself adrift.

We revisit the question discussed before which is still causing disquiet in her mind.  Tammy can no longer decide when the right time to euthanize the cat is. I have promised her I will have it done after she passes. But Tammy is still in conflict. She remembers her commitment to her cat to allow Scottie to die in her arms. The cat is not adoptable. The vet has agreed. But Tammy still wonders does she have the right to let the cat die and she live on? Only animal lovers will understand this dilemma. I am so grateful that all in her circle do feel this pain.

I am in conflict. Would putting the cat down now traumatize Tammy's last days or would it help her let go? Probably both. I think most people who are dying and who have time to think, have unfinished business preventing them from letting go. Many times they hang on because they know their loved ones are not ready for them to go. Tammy has reassured herself that people will "look after" me when she is gone. Now I have tried to reassure her that I will not let her down and I will follow her wishes regarding the cat. "I think Scottie would want to stay with you till you go" is my last statement on the matter. Tammy grunts and falls asleep.

Some distant clouds are silver tipped as the sun makes her appearance. A jet streams white across the sky. A plane is going somewhere else. I sit with the end of my coffee ready to face a new day here.