Sixty-six year old “Brenda” just came onto hospice as she has been in declining health for months. She has multiple medical problems to where now, she is unable to walk and needs assistance when transferring to her wheelchair or bed. Brenda’s husband had been caring for her until six months ago when he died after a sudden illness.
Since that time, Brenda’s eldest son, “Matt” has been staying with her. He is not working and is available to be with his mother to attend to her needs. At first glance, he looks like a tough, rough around the edges kind of guy. He is tall and husky with a powerful voice. His demeanor softens immediately when he looks at his mom.
He has been in prison twice for robbery. Both times it was after the death of someone with whom he was very close. He says he has learned his lesson, but when I asked him about how he thinks he will do when his mother is gone, he replied, “I don’t even want to think about it.” Fortunately, hospice has a very extensive bereavement follow-up for support. Hopefully he will be receptive to the help we have available for him.
I was surprised when he shared that he has been called a “Mama’s Boy”. He is anything, but that. He has many supportive friends nearby with whom he treats like family. During my visit, many were coming and going and checking in on both of them. They have a large network of support.
Looks are deceiving and it is always best not to judge someone by the way they appear. You may be surprised, more often than not, once you get to know them.
MAMA’S BOY
She was eighteen when he was born.
They’ve always been so close.
She watched over him as he grew to a man.
Now it is his turn to attend to her.
She been sick for many months.
She needs a lot of help.
He lovingly attends to her every need,
like he promised he always would.
They’ve had many struggles along the way.
Their lives have been difficult at times.
His two terms in state prison;
felony charges he can never forget.
His heart of gold is hidden somewhat
by his rugged physique and demeanor.
His body scarred by vicious assaults;
his forceful voice demanding attention.
He’s been called a “Mama’s Boy,”
because his love for her is devout.
The two of them have a special bond;
but he is as masculine as they come.
He may appear intimidating to some.
He may be rough around the edges.
Let them call him a “Mama’s Boy”,
but he is a very compassionate son
giving his mother what all of us need;
a tremendous heart bursting with love.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Sunday, July 22, 2012
EATING OUT
“Caroline”, sixty-seven, has been on hospice for almost two years. She suffers from lung cancer. Caroline was retired from her job as a concierge for a large hotel downtown. She was very sociable and had strong relationships with all of the staff at the surrounding restaurants.
The managers of the restaurants would offer Caroline free meals hoping that she would send hotel guests their way. Caroline loved to eat out and would gladly take them up on their offer. She lived downtown near many of her favorite dining places and frequented them on her own time as well.
When Caroline came onto hospice, she used a walker to ambulate. She was slow, but several times each week, was determined to walk the short distance to her favorite places near her home for lunch. Caroline was declining, but her strong will kept her going. It got to a point where she could no longer stay in her own home. Her home had many stairs which she could no longer maneuver.
She moved into an independent senior complex nearby. In addition to the independent living section, the facility had an assisted living center and nursing home wing. Caroline’s two children wanted her to be in a place to where she could have access to increased care as needed.
This past week, the children and I have been working on the paperwork to get their mother into the assisted living center. Caroline hated the idea, but knew it was going to be a reality soon.
Yesterday, her son spent the day with her. She was pretty weak, but then early afternoon perked up and said she wanted to go to the nursery to get a few plants. Off they went to buy a few plants for her apartment. Returning home near dinner time, her son fixed her a vodka on the rocks, her favorite drink. He was feeling a bit nervous as he knew that the hospice nurse was coming the next day to talk with her about moving to the Assisted Living Section.
This morning about 8:30 AM, the hospice home health aide found Caroline dead in her bed. It was sudden, but then it was perfect for Caroline. She died her way; dining out until the end and able to stay in her independent living apartment. The hospice nurse came out and said her body was still warm. Death had to have been pretty recent.
Thirty minutes before, Caroline’s daughter was driving her son, Caroline’s grandson, to kindergarten. It was during that drive to school when her grandson talked about what he saw. Both of Caroline’s children have comfort knowing their mother died the way she wanted. They are not surprised to know that she continues to eat out and is making friends.
EATING OUT
He called his great-grandma “GG”.
She’s been gone for about a year.
His grandmother goes by “Nana”.
He knows she’s been sick for a while.
Nana had to move to a different home.
A place where they had more care.
She was still able to eat lunch out.
Her favorite thing to do.
He knows she’s been getting weaker,
because she sleeps a whole lot more.
But she’ll still find the energy to enjoy a meal
at her favorite restaurants nearby.
Driving to kindergarten this morning .
he told his mom what he was seeing.
“I see GG with Nana.
They are sitting together having lunch”.
His mom asked where they were sitting.
“There are no tables in heaven.
They are sitting on the lawn.
Nana is making lots of friends there.”
A few moments later, the aide found his Nana.
She must have died in her sleep.
It was a shock as the day before she went shopping;
she had a cocktail before dinner.
Children’s connection to the other side is strong.
The are open to receive what may come.
A beautiful scene of GG and Nana
doing what they both loved to do;
Eating out.
The managers of the restaurants would offer Caroline free meals hoping that she would send hotel guests their way. Caroline loved to eat out and would gladly take them up on their offer. She lived downtown near many of her favorite dining places and frequented them on her own time as well.
When Caroline came onto hospice, she used a walker to ambulate. She was slow, but several times each week, was determined to walk the short distance to her favorite places near her home for lunch. Caroline was declining, but her strong will kept her going. It got to a point where she could no longer stay in her own home. Her home had many stairs which she could no longer maneuver.
She moved into an independent senior complex nearby. In addition to the independent living section, the facility had an assisted living center and nursing home wing. Caroline’s two children wanted her to be in a place to where she could have access to increased care as needed.
This past week, the children and I have been working on the paperwork to get their mother into the assisted living center. Caroline hated the idea, but knew it was going to be a reality soon.
Yesterday, her son spent the day with her. She was pretty weak, but then early afternoon perked up and said she wanted to go to the nursery to get a few plants. Off they went to buy a few plants for her apartment. Returning home near dinner time, her son fixed her a vodka on the rocks, her favorite drink. He was feeling a bit nervous as he knew that the hospice nurse was coming the next day to talk with her about moving to the Assisted Living Section.
This morning about 8:30 AM, the hospice home health aide found Caroline dead in her bed. It was sudden, but then it was perfect for Caroline. She died her way; dining out until the end and able to stay in her independent living apartment. The hospice nurse came out and said her body was still warm. Death had to have been pretty recent.
Thirty minutes before, Caroline’s daughter was driving her son, Caroline’s grandson, to kindergarten. It was during that drive to school when her grandson talked about what he saw. Both of Caroline’s children have comfort knowing their mother died the way she wanted. They are not surprised to know that she continues to eat out and is making friends.
EATING OUT
He called his great-grandma “GG”.
She’s been gone for about a year.
His grandmother goes by “Nana”.
He knows she’s been sick for a while.
Nana had to move to a different home.
A place where they had more care.
She was still able to eat lunch out.
Her favorite thing to do.
He knows she’s been getting weaker,
because she sleeps a whole lot more.
But she’ll still find the energy to enjoy a meal
at her favorite restaurants nearby.
Driving to kindergarten this morning .
he told his mom what he was seeing.
“I see GG with Nana.
They are sitting together having lunch”.
His mom asked where they were sitting.
“There are no tables in heaven.
They are sitting on the lawn.
Nana is making lots of friends there.”
A few moments later, the aide found his Nana.
She must have died in her sleep.
It was a shock as the day before she went shopping;
she had a cocktail before dinner.
Children’s connection to the other side is strong.
The are open to receive what may come.
A beautiful scene of GG and Nana
doing what they both loved to do;
Eating out.
Monday, July 16, 2012
HI RAY
The hospice nurse and I went out together to open a new case to hospice. “Linda”, fifty-six suffers from breast cancer that has spread to her bones and liver. She was working until six weeks ago. She has had a rapid decline since that time.
Linda lives with her husband, “Norm”. They have been married thirty-six years. Norm, seventy-one, is fifteen years older than Linda, but looks so much younger than his years. He has a youthful spirit and is very active, healthy and so full of life.
Norm reminded me so much of my friend Ray. Ray died eighteen months ago of cancer. Ray was seventy-one when he died. Ray was also fifteen years older than his wife, Judy. Norm looked, talked and joked like Ray. He was a spitting image of Ray.
I felt Ray’s presence in the room. I don’t know how much of that feeling was Norm’s likeness to Ray, but I knew Ray was nearby. I felt it in my heart. It gives one comfort to know that loved ones do come by now and then.
After the visit, I called Judy to share the story. She said that earlier that day, she was driving behind a Jeep Cherokee with a sticker in the window that said, “Ray’s”. Coincidently, Ray’s last three vehicles were all Jeep Cherokees. Judy said that she too has felt Ray’s presence all day .
Be it coincidence or not, it gives one comfort to feel the presence of a loved one. It gives reassurance that we all will meet up again one day.
HI RAY
Hi Ray.
I felt your spirit today.
Showing us your presence.
Watching over us here.
He looked like you.
He joked like you.
His voice was your voice.
He had you down pat.
Happy to see you again.
Happy to know you come around.
Checking to see that we are okay.
We need you in our corner.
Tears have come as there is sadness too.
Awareness of the pain of losing you.
Missing those special times.
Moments that are forever gone.
Ray, come again soon.
Let us know you are nearby.
A sign that you are doing well
and that we will see you again one day.
Hi Ray.
Linda lives with her husband, “Norm”. They have been married thirty-six years. Norm, seventy-one, is fifteen years older than Linda, but looks so much younger than his years. He has a youthful spirit and is very active, healthy and so full of life.
Norm reminded me so much of my friend Ray. Ray died eighteen months ago of cancer. Ray was seventy-one when he died. Ray was also fifteen years older than his wife, Judy. Norm looked, talked and joked like Ray. He was a spitting image of Ray.
I felt Ray’s presence in the room. I don’t know how much of that feeling was Norm’s likeness to Ray, but I knew Ray was nearby. I felt it in my heart. It gives one comfort to know that loved ones do come by now and then.
After the visit, I called Judy to share the story. She said that earlier that day, she was driving behind a Jeep Cherokee with a sticker in the window that said, “Ray’s”. Coincidently, Ray’s last three vehicles were all Jeep Cherokees. Judy said that she too has felt Ray’s presence all day .
Be it coincidence or not, it gives one comfort to feel the presence of a loved one. It gives reassurance that we all will meet up again one day.
HI RAY
Hi Ray.
I felt your spirit today.
Showing us your presence.
Watching over us here.
He looked like you.
He joked like you.
His voice was your voice.
He had you down pat.
Happy to see you again.
Happy to know you come around.
Checking to see that we are okay.
We need you in our corner.
Tears have come as there is sadness too.
Awareness of the pain of losing you.
Missing those special times.
Moments that are forever gone.
Ray, come again soon.
Let us know you are nearby.
A sign that you are doing well
and that we will see you again one day.
Hi Ray.
Monday, July 9, 2012
SOCIAL WORK
“Joyce”, seventy, has been on hospice for about three weeks. She suffers from lung cancer and is slowly declining and needing more and more help. Joyce lives with her daughter, “Candy” and Candy’s husband and teenage son. I have been visiting weekly as this family has a lot going on and need support.
Candy’s husband has been unemployed for over three years to where his unemployment checks have stopped. His background is doing dry wall work. He gets odd jobs that pay very little. The family has not paid their mortgage or utility bills for over two months. Needless to say, finances are a stressor. In addition, the burden of Joyce’s illness has put a huge strain on the family emotionally.
Candy easily has opened up with her emotions to me. She expressed a lot of anger toward God as her burdens are overwhelming. She feels that it isn’t fair. Her heart is full of love toward her family and mankind. Anger toward God is her only avenue of release for those emotions. During my visits, I have been assisting her with processing this anger. A large part of my role is to validate her feelings while guiding her to her own resolution.
I called Candy today to schedule a visit for tomorrow. She turned to her mother, who was nearby saying, “It is Marilou, the social one.” I laughed and said “Hence, that is why I am called the Social Worker.” She laughed and said that it was easy to talk with me.
I keep my style casual and low key as it offers an environment of safety and support. Observing my style, many do not see the therapeutic interaction that goes on between me and families. It seems to work well for them and me this way.
SOCIAL WORK
My style is very casual.
I try to keep things low key.
It allows many to open up
in a safe and honest way.
They may think I am just talking.
I am listening to what they need to share.
They don’t realize it’s the work that I do,
as I guide them along their way.
She sees me as a guest; not a counselor
saying I was the most social one.
It doesn’t matter much how she perceives my role
as long as she gets the support she so dearly needs.
I want her to feel comfortable.
I want her to feel safe and not judged.
I want her to know how much I do care
so she’ll never ever feel alone.
My job is not just social.
My job is not just work.
I am directed by my families
intertwining social constantly
with the work.
Candy’s husband has been unemployed for over three years to where his unemployment checks have stopped. His background is doing dry wall work. He gets odd jobs that pay very little. The family has not paid their mortgage or utility bills for over two months. Needless to say, finances are a stressor. In addition, the burden of Joyce’s illness has put a huge strain on the family emotionally.
Candy easily has opened up with her emotions to me. She expressed a lot of anger toward God as her burdens are overwhelming. She feels that it isn’t fair. Her heart is full of love toward her family and mankind. Anger toward God is her only avenue of release for those emotions. During my visits, I have been assisting her with processing this anger. A large part of my role is to validate her feelings while guiding her to her own resolution.
I called Candy today to schedule a visit for tomorrow. She turned to her mother, who was nearby saying, “It is Marilou, the social one.” I laughed and said “Hence, that is why I am called the Social Worker.” She laughed and said that it was easy to talk with me.
I keep my style casual and low key as it offers an environment of safety and support. Observing my style, many do not see the therapeutic interaction that goes on between me and families. It seems to work well for them and me this way.
SOCIAL WORK
My style is very casual.
I try to keep things low key.
It allows many to open up
in a safe and honest way.
They may think I am just talking.
I am listening to what they need to share.
They don’t realize it’s the work that I do,
as I guide them along their way.
She sees me as a guest; not a counselor
saying I was the most social one.
It doesn’t matter much how she perceives my role
as long as she gets the support she so dearly needs.
I want her to feel comfortable.
I want her to feel safe and not judged.
I want her to know how much I do care
so she’ll never ever feel alone.
My job is not just social.
My job is not just work.
I am directed by my families
intertwining social constantly
with the work.
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