She has gotten so much worse so fast, I'm not able to process it yet. Even as she has physically gotten worse, her mind was still working just fine, but now it's an effort to even communicate with her. She's on a Fentanyl patch, and morphine sulphate, and while not making her mouth hurt one bit less, it's robbed her of her faculties. Now I've got the task of finding out if she has a pre-paid arrangement with one of the local funeral homes, and if not, I'm going to have to make such arrangements myself. There is also a pile stuff that Mom used to fly through, that I'm going to have to dig in and figure out. By myself. This is a warning for leaving such stuff till later. When later hits, it hits like a Japanese High-speed Train.