Sixty-eight year old “Christy” was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer six months ago. She came onto hospice shortly afterwards. Christy lives with her significant other of twenty years, “Bob”. Bob has his own health issues, but is able to care for Christy at this time because she is still up and about. She tires easily and takes several naps each day. Bob helps with meals and household chores.
I went out to do a visit today and our initial discussion was related to Bob’s health issues and his limitations. It was then, I asked about their long term care plan for Christy. I have concerns about Bob being able to care for Christy when she starts to decline and needing more help.
Christy said they do not have a plan. She has no family, but has a large network of friends. Unfortunately, many of her friends live out of state or, due to busy schedules, are not available. Her friends are there for her emotionally, but the hands-on care will fall onto Bob. Christy said that she has fears of becoming dependent. She told Bob and I that she would do whatever she needs to do to avoid becoming dependent.
I asked her if she knew where that fear came from. She then shared the story about her grandmother and the many shut-ins they visited when she was a child. Those visits have left vivid memories with Christy. We talked at length about the end-of-life process and options available. She would have nothing to do with it.
I believe that if someone wants to commit suicide, there isn’t much anyone can do to prevent them from following through with that choice. I asked Bob what his thoughts were about Christy’s plan. He shared that he wanted her to talk with him first. She was quick to add that she didn’t want him to be involved as she feared he would be arrested for aiding in a suicide.
Christy asked me about other patients and their dying experience. I shared the truth being that, quite often, patients find peace in their final weeks, days and hours. I have made a referral for our psych nurse to make a visit to assess Christy. Our hospice nurse will monitor her medicine and, if needed, her pills can be locked up in a lock box. But in the end, I believe, if Christy is steadfast about her decision, there isn’t much anyone can do to prevent her from taking her life. I wish her peace.
IN THE END
She comes from a small village
where everyone lent a hand.
She has memories being with her grandmother
visiting those dependent in their homes.
She remembers clearly those long ago times.
Mixed emotions arise from those memories.
Having seen things she will never forget;
dependency, struggles, vulnerability.
She has fears of becoming dependent herself.
She would never want to be that way.
“I will do what I have to do,
to avoid ever going through something like that”.
She talks of taking her life before dependency comes.
She has many pills within easy reach.
She is not stressed, but rather at peace.
It is a natural option for her to choose.
In the end, no one can stop her, I suppose.
In the end, it really is her choice to make.
Whether a wise decision or not,
she likely will do what she needs to do.
She has always lived her life her way.
I suspect she will die her way as well.
Somehow I know it will be what it will be.
One way or another,
it will end.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Saturday, August 18, 2012
LATE BLOOMER
Ninety-two year old, “”Katie” retired seven years old at the age of eighty-five. She went back to school after her children were grown. She was in her early fifties and wanted to study psychology. She received her PhD and went on to have a clinical practice for thirty years.
Katie has always been an independent, free spirit. She has been widowed for over thirty years and is used to being responsible for her own accomplishments. Katie moved into a board and care home three years ago. She could no longer live alone as her memory was fading.
Katie has four adult children, of which two live nearby. They are very involved in her care and are devoted to her. I met with Katie and her daughter, “Janet” today to open them to our hospice program. Katie was lying in her hospital bed in her room. She was sleepy as her daughter had just woken her up. Katie was easy to smile.
Janet and I went into the living room to talk about our hospice program and how we are available to support the family as they need. It was then that Janet told me about her mother’s accomplishments. She was very proud of what her mother had done.
Meeting Katie for the first time and seeing her confusion, it is hard to imagine that she was working only seven years ago. She is an excellent example of someone living their life in a way that suits them. She is a role model for all of us.
LATE BLOOMER
She has had a long life.
She’s made it ninety-two years.
Unfortunately she is now totally dependent
after years of amazing accomplishments.
She went back to school in her fifties
after her four children were fully grown.
She didn’t stop until her PhD.
Clinical Psychology, an impressive goal.
She counseled clients for thirty years;
long after most of us would choose to be through.
Seven years ago, she took her retirement.
At age eighty-five, it was time to step down.
Confusion is now her constant companion.
She has few memories of her impressive past.
Her children remind her and brag to their peers.
They all are so proud of what she has done.
She has touched many along her way.
More than she’ll ever know.
Although her time may be short;
her legacy will always remain.
A role model,
a mentor.
It’s never too late.
Katie has always been an independent, free spirit. She has been widowed for over thirty years and is used to being responsible for her own accomplishments. Katie moved into a board and care home three years ago. She could no longer live alone as her memory was fading.
Katie has four adult children, of which two live nearby. They are very involved in her care and are devoted to her. I met with Katie and her daughter, “Janet” today to open them to our hospice program. Katie was lying in her hospital bed in her room. She was sleepy as her daughter had just woken her up. Katie was easy to smile.
Janet and I went into the living room to talk about our hospice program and how we are available to support the family as they need. It was then that Janet told me about her mother’s accomplishments. She was very proud of what her mother had done.
Meeting Katie for the first time and seeing her confusion, it is hard to imagine that she was working only seven years ago. She is an excellent example of someone living their life in a way that suits them. She is a role model for all of us.
LATE BLOOMER
She has had a long life.
She’s made it ninety-two years.
Unfortunately she is now totally dependent
after years of amazing accomplishments.
She went back to school in her fifties
after her four children were fully grown.
She didn’t stop until her PhD.
Clinical Psychology, an impressive goal.
She counseled clients for thirty years;
long after most of us would choose to be through.
Seven years ago, she took her retirement.
At age eighty-five, it was time to step down.
Confusion is now her constant companion.
She has few memories of her impressive past.
Her children remind her and brag to their peers.
They all are so proud of what she has done.
She has touched many along her way.
More than she’ll ever know.
Although her time may be short;
her legacy will always remain.
A role model,
a mentor.
It’s never too late.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
CELL PHONE
Sixty-six year old “Gene” suffered from esophageal cancer. He was diagnosed three years ago, but had been doing well until recently when he started to decline. Gene lived with his wife, “Susanne” of twenty-five years. They both had children from previous marriages, but her sons thought of Gene as their dad.
He was on hospice for only three weeks as his decline was rapid. It got to the point to where he was bed bound and spent his days in the hospital bed in the living room. Susanne would sleep on the couch nearby in case he would wake up during the night. He struggled with some pain issues and, for several nights, he would wake up Susanne throughout the night.
Fortunately, the pain issues lasted for only a few days to where he became more restful. Susanne thought the turning point was when the hospice nurse put in a catheter. She felt that a lot of his pain was discomfort from not being able to urinate on his own.
Gene died early one Monday morning. Susanne had just gotten up to use the bathroom and heard him make a noise. She quickly went to the bedside and saw that he had stopped breathing. Her sister was with her and was able to give her the support she needed.
My role as the hospice social worker includes bereavement. I do follow up telephone calls and visits as needed. I did a home visit today with Susanne to give her support. It was during today’s visit that Susanne told me about Gene’s cell phone antics. She says it gives her peace knowing that he is, without question, on the other side.
As a side note: it was amazing to me as Gene was born the same day and year that I was born. I seldom meet anyone with whom I share a birthday; let alone one who was born in the same year. It gave the two of us a wonderful connection.
CELL PHONE
He was sick for a little while.
He had some struggles along the way.
She was nearby when he took his last breath;
giving thanks for a peaceful end.
She found his cell phone the next day.
The battery had completely died.
She put his phone in the back bedroom.
He would never need it again.
Later she heard someone texting on his phone.
She wondered how would that be?
His battery wasn’t charged; it shouldn’t be working.
She wondered if it was him.
It happened again the very next day.
She knew what she had heard.
She started to believe that it really was him
sending her a message via his cell phone.
A few days later, his cell phone rang.
She was convinced now that it was him.
Communicating to her so that she would know
he was on the line with his final goodbye.
Spiritual technology; giving her peace;
using an earthly
cell phone.
He was on hospice for only three weeks as his decline was rapid. It got to the point to where he was bed bound and spent his days in the hospital bed in the living room. Susanne would sleep on the couch nearby in case he would wake up during the night. He struggled with some pain issues and, for several nights, he would wake up Susanne throughout the night.
Fortunately, the pain issues lasted for only a few days to where he became more restful. Susanne thought the turning point was when the hospice nurse put in a catheter. She felt that a lot of his pain was discomfort from not being able to urinate on his own.
Gene died early one Monday morning. Susanne had just gotten up to use the bathroom and heard him make a noise. She quickly went to the bedside and saw that he had stopped breathing. Her sister was with her and was able to give her the support she needed.
My role as the hospice social worker includes bereavement. I do follow up telephone calls and visits as needed. I did a home visit today with Susanne to give her support. It was during today’s visit that Susanne told me about Gene’s cell phone antics. She says it gives her peace knowing that he is, without question, on the other side.
As a side note: it was amazing to me as Gene was born the same day and year that I was born. I seldom meet anyone with whom I share a birthday; let alone one who was born in the same year. It gave the two of us a wonderful connection.
CELL PHONE
He was sick for a little while.
He had some struggles along the way.
She was nearby when he took his last breath;
giving thanks for a peaceful end.
She found his cell phone the next day.
The battery had completely died.
She put his phone in the back bedroom.
He would never need it again.
Later she heard someone texting on his phone.
She wondered how would that be?
His battery wasn’t charged; it shouldn’t be working.
She wondered if it was him.
It happened again the very next day.
She knew what she had heard.
She started to believe that it really was him
sending her a message via his cell phone.
A few days later, his cell phone rang.
She was convinced now that it was him.
Communicating to her so that she would know
he was on the line with his final goodbye.
Spiritual technology; giving her peace;
using an earthly
cell phone.
Monday, August 6, 2012
REGGIE
I first met Reggie, a Dalmatian/collie mix dog, about two years ago when her master, “Angie”, came onto hospice. Angie suffered from lung cancer and over the course of those two years, had a very slow decline. Angie lived with her partner “Sarah”. The two had been a couple for almost forty years.
Reggie would always greet me at the front door with excitement. She would bounce around, her tail briskly wagging wanting to nuzzle you. Reggie would then run to the living room where Angie was sitting in her recliner.
With each visit, she would greet me with the same enthusiasm and joy. Once we all sat down, Reggie would go and lie near Angie. Toward the end of Angie’s life, she spent her days in a hospital bed in the living room. Reggie would lie as close as she could to the bed to be near Angie.
A few weeks ago, Reggie was diagnosed with pancreatitis. The initial treatment seemed to work, but Reggie continued to decline. The vet kept Reggie at the animal hospital for a few days only to inform Sarah that there was nothing that could be done. During this time, Angie had stopped eating and spent her days asleep. Sarah did not tell Angie about Reggie.
One Monday morning, Sarah had two friends stay with Angie while she drove to the hospital. Sarah was at Reggie’s side when she died. Sarah is grieving the loss of a lifetime partner with the added grief of her faithful friend. It gives Sarah comfort knowing that somehow Angie must have known that Reggie was waiting for her. She sees them together side by side and, with a few tears, can bring herself to smile.
REGGIE
I loved that dog Reggie.
Part Dalmatian, part collie.
One hazel eye, the other pearl.
She was the cutest thing.
Reggie was the first to the door
whenever she heard a knock.
Tail wagging, nuzzling you.
One could almost see her smile.
Reggie would lie by her master.
She was faithful to the core.
Somehow she seemed to know
her master’s time was short.
Reggie got sick quite suddenly.
There was nothing the vet could do.
Her master didn’t know,
but it was time to let her go.
Reggie’s life ended one early afternoon
while her master was in a deep sleep.
Simultaneously, her master awoke and reached up.
“Reggie, Reggie” coming from her lips.
Reggie must have been waiting for her.
She must have known her pup was there.
As three hours later, she too, let go.
Reggie and her
again
side by side.
Reggie would always greet me at the front door with excitement. She would bounce around, her tail briskly wagging wanting to nuzzle you. Reggie would then run to the living room where Angie was sitting in her recliner.
With each visit, she would greet me with the same enthusiasm and joy. Once we all sat down, Reggie would go and lie near Angie. Toward the end of Angie’s life, she spent her days in a hospital bed in the living room. Reggie would lie as close as she could to the bed to be near Angie.
A few weeks ago, Reggie was diagnosed with pancreatitis. The initial treatment seemed to work, but Reggie continued to decline. The vet kept Reggie at the animal hospital for a few days only to inform Sarah that there was nothing that could be done. During this time, Angie had stopped eating and spent her days asleep. Sarah did not tell Angie about Reggie.
One Monday morning, Sarah had two friends stay with Angie while she drove to the hospital. Sarah was at Reggie’s side when she died. Sarah is grieving the loss of a lifetime partner with the added grief of her faithful friend. It gives Sarah comfort knowing that somehow Angie must have known that Reggie was waiting for her. She sees them together side by side and, with a few tears, can bring herself to smile.
REGGIE
I loved that dog Reggie.
Part Dalmatian, part collie.
One hazel eye, the other pearl.
She was the cutest thing.
Reggie was the first to the door
whenever she heard a knock.
Tail wagging, nuzzling you.
One could almost see her smile.
Reggie would lie by her master.
She was faithful to the core.
Somehow she seemed to know
her master’s time was short.
Reggie got sick quite suddenly.
There was nothing the vet could do.
Her master didn’t know,
but it was time to let her go.
Reggie’s life ended one early afternoon
while her master was in a deep sleep.
Simultaneously, her master awoke and reached up.
“Reggie, Reggie” coming from her lips.
Reggie must have been waiting for her.
She must have known her pup was there.
As three hours later, she too, let go.
Reggie and her
again
side by side.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)