Yesterday afternoon she told her story well. She recounted her recent bouts of illness which had culminated in her last hospital admission. She was keen to go home as soon as possible. The way she looked it appeared she had a good chance of making it there. The plan was to optimise her symptom control and then discharge home would be considered. She was in good spirits and was glad to have arrived in our inpatient unit.

The first night was disturbed by worsened pain, agitation and confusion. When we reviewed her the following morning, she was very unwell. This once talkative lady was unable to respond to voice. We diagnosed that she was dying. Generations of the family were asked to gather together to say goodbye to our patient as her time appeared to have shortened. Her medications were adjusted to maintain comfort.

I was surprised when her son told me that his mother had woken up and was talking to her family again. This was in time for the visit by her grandchildren. She enjoyed seeing them, hugging them and talking to them during a nice afternoon. By the evening she was exhausted and drifted off into another restless sleep. She never woke up again.

My science couldn’t explain how this dying lady had gathered what remained of her limited energy in order to be there for her visiting grandchildren. The last hurrah or the final rally is something I have witnessed too many times in palliative care settings. It really is a thing. A person can wake up from a coma to provide a final gift to their loved ones. Yet another mystery we often encounter at the end of life.