When admitting a new patient to our hospice program, the hospice nurse and I, as the social worker, both receive paperwork indicating the patient's address, diagnosis, contact people etc. Our intake nurse is very thorough, detailed and meticulous when completing the paperwork. She rarely gets anything wrong. Typically the admission nurse gets the original paperwork while the admission social worker gets a copy of it all.
I was to meet, “Agnes” and her niece, “Rita” at a nursing home, where Agnes has been for ten days. Agnes is eighty-nine years old and suffers from cardiac disease. She has been in a recent decline to where she has stopped eating.
I noticed the name of a Residential Care Facility on my paperwork as well, but followed my GPS directions to the Nursing Home. I walked into the lobby and met Agnes, her niece, Rita and nephew, “Matt”. The three of them were sitting in the lobby waiting to get discharge papers from the nursing home staff. The family were so anxious to get Agnes back home to her Residential Care Facility.
Rita shared that she has all of Agnes’s belongings in her car and they have been waiting patiently for quite a while. Agnes was getting tired sitting in her wheelchair. They were waiting for Agnes’s doctor to fax the discharge orders to the nursing home.
I went up to the nurses station and asked about the status of the paperwork. The nurse said that they were waiting for a fax from the doctor’s office. I told her that I was going to call the doctor’s office to try to hurry things along. She then said she would call. She spoke with someone who informed her that they would leave a message for the doctor.
In the end, I got busy gathering the appropriate paperwork and getting copies of what Agnes’s Residential Care Facility needed before she was to return home. We were able to get Agnes into her niece’s car and be at her home within the hour.
Rita was so frustrated by all of the delays. She said I was meant to come to the nursing home. They had planned on being at the Residential Care Facility, where Agnes has lived for two years and considers home, for our admission visit two hours prior. Rita said that I was guided from above. She was so grateful and gave me a big tight hug.
Once we got Agnes home, Rita gave a big sigh of relief. When the admission nurse showed up at the Residential Care Facility, her paperwork had the correct address. My paperwork somehow directed me to where the family was waiting. I had the opportunity to speedup the process for getting Agnes home. Whatever the reason, I am so glad it happened the way it did.
RIGHT OR WRONG?
I went to the wrong address.
I followed what she wrote.
She is very meticulous and careful.
Rarely gets anything wrong.
The family was sitting in the lobby.
They were waiting to discharge her home.
She was stressed by the slow process.
I pitched in and got things moving.
I followed them to her home.
She’s been away for two weeks.
A sigh of relief on her niece’s face
as they helped put her to bed.
“Thank you so much for your help.
I can breathe again.
You were meant to be there.
You were guided from above.”
The address may have been wrong,
but I went to the right place.
Spirituality, fate, coincidence.
It doesn’t really matter how.
Right or wrong?
The most important thing of all is
I ended up where
I was needed to be.
Saturday, May 30, 2015
Saturday, May 23, 2015
VETERANS
Each Memorial Day, our hospice presents the veterans on our program with a package containing a flag, a pin, a plaque and a card thanking them for their service. The hospice staff presents the packages to their own patients. After the staff left for the day, there were three remaining packages. I had time this afternoon and offered to deliver the remaining three bags.
Coincidently, two of the bags were for patients in the same Assisted Living Environment. The remaining bag was for "Alton", a patient I had met two weeks before when he was admitted to our hospice program. Alton lived about a mile away from the other two patients in another Assisted Living Center. I had met Alton's four children at the admission visit as well. Making this delivery felt special as I had connected with this wonderful and supportive family.
I walked into the facility and informed the staff that I was there to see Alton. The clerk told me that Alton had died two days ago. I wasn't aware as had not heard about his death. Being the admission social worker, I see so many patients only one time. Often I will hear about a death and recognize the name, but cannot connect the name with the patient.
The clerk informed me that Alton's four children were in the conference room and were ready to leave. The family were so pleased when I informed them about the purpose of my visit. Alton's son spoke of displaying the plaque at his father's memorial. The plaque had Alton's name thanking him for his military service. It felt good to be able to complete the circle with Alton's family. It was a special honor to be a part.
VETERANS
Hospice salutes our veterans.
We keep track of who they are.
Every Memorial Day we honor them
with a flag; a plaque; a pin; a card.
The staff handles the deliveries.
They thank each and every one
for their service; their sacrifices;
keeping our country free.
I was able to help out.
He was my first stop of the day.
I had met him and his family two weeks before,
making it much more special to me.
The staff told me he died two days ago.
I was surprised as I wasn't aware.
She said his family is in the conference room,
but they are about ready to leave.
I was able to thank him through them.
They were touched by the recognition.
They talked about his memorial.
How the plaque now would be on display.
Veterans are proud of their service.
His memorial will capture it all.
It all flowed so perfectly.
Somehow I know,
he was involved.
Coincidently, two of the bags were for patients in the same Assisted Living Environment. The remaining bag was for "Alton", a patient I had met two weeks before when he was admitted to our hospice program. Alton lived about a mile away from the other two patients in another Assisted Living Center. I had met Alton's four children at the admission visit as well. Making this delivery felt special as I had connected with this wonderful and supportive family.
I walked into the facility and informed the staff that I was there to see Alton. The clerk told me that Alton had died two days ago. I wasn't aware as had not heard about his death. Being the admission social worker, I see so many patients only one time. Often I will hear about a death and recognize the name, but cannot connect the name with the patient.
The clerk informed me that Alton's four children were in the conference room and were ready to leave. The family were so pleased when I informed them about the purpose of my visit. Alton's son spoke of displaying the plaque at his father's memorial. The plaque had Alton's name thanking him for his military service. It felt good to be able to complete the circle with Alton's family. It was a special honor to be a part.
VETERANS
Hospice salutes our veterans.
We keep track of who they are.
Every Memorial Day we honor them
with a flag; a plaque; a pin; a card.
The staff handles the deliveries.
They thank each and every one
for their service; their sacrifices;
keeping our country free.
I was able to help out.
He was my first stop of the day.
I had met him and his family two weeks before,
making it much more special to me.
The staff told me he died two days ago.
I was surprised as I wasn't aware.
She said his family is in the conference room,
but they are about ready to leave.
I was able to thank him through them.
They were touched by the recognition.
They talked about his memorial.
How the plaque now would be on display.
Veterans are proud of their service.
His memorial will capture it all.
It all flowed so perfectly.
Somehow I know,
he was involved.
Saturday, May 16, 2015
SOBER
“Sally”, eighty years old, suffers from end stage dementia and cardiac disease. Sally had been living in a skilled nursing facility with around-the-clock care, when she took a dramatic decline. Sally is widowed and has three children. The three of them decided to bring mom back home. The plan was for her youngest daughter, “Bette”, to fly out from Minnesota to care for her mother.
Sally's other daughter and son live nearby, but have full time jobs. Bette is on disability from a lung injury while serving in the Marines. She offered to fly out to care for her mom while her siblings worked. Her siblings will help out on the weekends to give Bette a break.
I first met Bette and Sally the previous day when Sally was still in the skilled nursing facility. Sally was to be discharged home later that day. Bette was nervous about being able to care for her mom properly. I went out to their home the next day to check in and see how they both were doing. Bette was so gentle caring for her mom. Sally looked happy to be home. She was lying in her hospital bed in the living room with Bette sitting by her side holding her hand.
It was then that Bette told me about her drinking. She says she had been drinking for thirty years. She stops; goes through withdrawal, drinks again; withdrawal, and the cycled continued. She shared that she had been sober for thirty-one days; pointing to her bible and other religious books; adding that her spirituality is what will keep her sober.
Sally was on hospice for only twelve days when she passed away. Bette was sitting by her mother, holding her hand, when she took her last breath. Today, two days later, Bette started to drink. She called our hospice office for help. She was so ashamed and embarrassed, but was receptive to a visit.
Bette was able to rant and rave while processing her thoughts. I reassured her that she did a beautiful job caring for her mother. In the end, I listened and validated Bette's feelings. I also guided her toward her solution for help. I left resources for her along with a hot-line for her to call if needed. Sally said she would call her brother, who has been sober for eight years. I wish her all the best and hope she is able to reach out and remain sober utilizing the supports she has available to her.
SOBER
She has the biggest heart of all.
She flew here to care for her mom.
She’s been sober for thirty-one days.
She’s done it all on her own.
She says she will never drink again.
Her Bible and faith keep her sober.
She is not worried about it at all
as her primary focus now, is her mom.
She was sitting next to her mom’s bed,
comforting words; holding her hand.
She was telling her that it was okay to go
when she took her final breath.
She started to drink two days later.
She is embarrassed and ashamed of herself.
She says she has no more focus in life,
“I don’t want you to come, but please do.”
The first thing she asked me
was to throw out all the booze.
She talked; she rambled; she talked some more.
She figured out what she wants to do.
She’ll get help with her drinking.
Then she will return home.
She’ll volunteer at her local hospice.
A new focus to help her remain
Sober.
Sally's other daughter and son live nearby, but have full time jobs. Bette is on disability from a lung injury while serving in the Marines. She offered to fly out to care for her mom while her siblings worked. Her siblings will help out on the weekends to give Bette a break.
I first met Bette and Sally the previous day when Sally was still in the skilled nursing facility. Sally was to be discharged home later that day. Bette was nervous about being able to care for her mom properly. I went out to their home the next day to check in and see how they both were doing. Bette was so gentle caring for her mom. Sally looked happy to be home. She was lying in her hospital bed in the living room with Bette sitting by her side holding her hand.
It was then that Bette told me about her drinking. She says she had been drinking for thirty years. She stops; goes through withdrawal, drinks again; withdrawal, and the cycled continued. She shared that she had been sober for thirty-one days; pointing to her bible and other religious books; adding that her spirituality is what will keep her sober.
Sally was on hospice for only twelve days when she passed away. Bette was sitting by her mother, holding her hand, when she took her last breath. Today, two days later, Bette started to drink. She called our hospice office for help. She was so ashamed and embarrassed, but was receptive to a visit.
Bette was able to rant and rave while processing her thoughts. I reassured her that she did a beautiful job caring for her mother. In the end, I listened and validated Bette's feelings. I also guided her toward her solution for help. I left resources for her along with a hot-line for her to call if needed. Sally said she would call her brother, who has been sober for eight years. I wish her all the best and hope she is able to reach out and remain sober utilizing the supports she has available to her.
SOBER
She has the biggest heart of all.
She flew here to care for her mom.
She’s been sober for thirty-one days.
She’s done it all on her own.
She says she will never drink again.
Her Bible and faith keep her sober.
She is not worried about it at all
as her primary focus now, is her mom.
She was sitting next to her mom’s bed,
comforting words; holding her hand.
She was telling her that it was okay to go
when she took her final breath.
She started to drink two days later.
She is embarrassed and ashamed of herself.
She says she has no more focus in life,
“I don’t want you to come, but please do.”
The first thing she asked me
was to throw out all the booze.
She talked; she rambled; she talked some more.
She figured out what she wants to do.
She’ll get help with her drinking.
Then she will return home.
She’ll volunteer at her local hospice.
A new focus to help her remain
Sober.
Saturday, May 9, 2015
FEAR
Eighty-two year old, “Minerva”, suffers from lung disease. She was diagnosed ten years ago and had been doing quite well. Three weeks ago, Minerva started to feel short of breath and weak. She was hospitalized four days ago for treatment and tests. Yesterday, she told her family and doctors, "That’s enough." She was done.
Minerva has been widowed for almost twenty years. For the past ten years, she has been living alone in a “Granny House” on her daughter, "Jen's," property. Jen lives in the front house with her husband. Three weeks ago, Jen moved her mother into the main house as she needed closer supervision. Minerva was becoming weaker and needing more help.
Once Jen heard her mother’s request for no more treatment and, in addition, knowing hospice was coming on board, Jen said it was like a tremendous weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She understands that this is her mother’s wishes.
Jen knows that her mom’s biggest fear is struggling to breathe. Jen shared that her biggest fear is doing something wrong and not being able to care for her mom. I assured Jen that hospice is only a phone call away. I added that she never will be alone as hospice will walk along side of her and her family for support.
Once Minerva knew that all the hospice paperwork was signed and that she was going home with hospice support, she was so relieved. Just knowing that she and her daughter had support, was a great relief for her.
Many folks aren’t fearful of dying or the afterlife; it is the struggle they may have while getting there. Fortunately, hospice’s biggest gift to patients and their family is comfort care and being available 24/7. I am so thankful we will be there for Minerva and Jen.
FEAR
She was diagnosed years ago.
Things went well for quite a while.
In just three weeks, all that has changed.
Her life as she once knew, is now totally gone.
She is bedridden, she is weak;
her appetite is all but gone.
Oxygen is needed around the clock,
fearful of not being able to breathe.
She knows her body is shutting down.
She knows her time is short.
Dying is not what fears her the most,
it is about struggling, not catching her breath.
She told her family she is done.
She has been through quite enough.
No more treatment, no more tests.
She just wants to be at home.
With hospice’s support, her anxiety now vanished,
but I was surprised by how much she had changed.
When I asked her if she had any lingering fears,
she smiled and calmly said,
“No, not at all.”
This is what I want.”
Minerva has been widowed for almost twenty years. For the past ten years, she has been living alone in a “Granny House” on her daughter, "Jen's," property. Jen lives in the front house with her husband. Three weeks ago, Jen moved her mother into the main house as she needed closer supervision. Minerva was becoming weaker and needing more help.
Once Jen heard her mother’s request for no more treatment and, in addition, knowing hospice was coming on board, Jen said it was like a tremendous weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She understands that this is her mother’s wishes.
Jen knows that her mom’s biggest fear is struggling to breathe. Jen shared that her biggest fear is doing something wrong and not being able to care for her mom. I assured Jen that hospice is only a phone call away. I added that she never will be alone as hospice will walk along side of her and her family for support.
Once Minerva knew that all the hospice paperwork was signed and that she was going home with hospice support, she was so relieved. Just knowing that she and her daughter had support, was a great relief for her.
Many folks aren’t fearful of dying or the afterlife; it is the struggle they may have while getting there. Fortunately, hospice’s biggest gift to patients and their family is comfort care and being available 24/7. I am so thankful we will be there for Minerva and Jen.
FEAR
She was diagnosed years ago.
Things went well for quite a while.
In just three weeks, all that has changed.
Her life as she once knew, is now totally gone.
She is bedridden, she is weak;
her appetite is all but gone.
Oxygen is needed around the clock,
fearful of not being able to breathe.
She knows her body is shutting down.
She knows her time is short.
Dying is not what fears her the most,
it is about struggling, not catching her breath.
She told her family she is done.
She has been through quite enough.
No more treatment, no more tests.
She just wants to be at home.
With hospice’s support, her anxiety now vanished,
but I was surprised by how much she had changed.
When I asked her if she had any lingering fears,
she smiled and calmly said,
“No, not at all.”
This is what I want.”
Saturday, May 2, 2015
TOOLS
I made a phone call today and spoke with “Judy”, the daughter of a patient that we will be admitting to our hospice program tomorrow. Judy had some questions about the admission process. She will be going out of town for a week and not be available for the open.
Judy's mother, “Maryanne”, suffers from Parkinson’s disease. Maryanne is having some struggle with swallowing food as is choking so easily. She lives in a residential care facility as needs help with all of her daily needs. Maryanne has one other daughter, “Ellie”, who also lives nearby.
The two daughters do not talk and are not close at all, although both are devoted to their mother. Judy said that Ellie copes by avoiding the situation. “If she doesn’t see it, it isn’t happening.” Denial is a huge coping skill that allows one to cope by baby steps. Judy then shared how she coped and how it worked so well for her.
It got me to thinking about how all of us do cope in our own way. There really is no right or wrong way to cope. It is important to recognize what we feel, know that it is normal and process it in a way that works for us. This process is so different for all of us. There are times that avoidance allows us to go slowly with our grief. Unfortunately, there are also times when one can get stuck. Grief is so clever as it twists and turns on a moment’s notice.
Ellie may think that her way of coping is as successful as Judy thinks her way of coping is for her. I just know that we all have to deal with loss. No one escapes pain and heartache. I just hope, when needed, that each of us find the right tools that work for us.
TOOLS
We all have learned how to cope
when tough times come our way.
We know what works for us.
But then, we also know what doesn’t.
Each of us are born with a toolbox
full of bright, shiny, new tools.
We may break the wrench or avoid the hammer,
but quickly pick up the screwdriver.
It is such a unique process;
as different as each one of us.
Not one tool is right for everyone.
We all have to figure things out.
Some of us struggle for years.
We may stuff our feelings; ignore our toolbox.
But perhaps it isn’t all that complicated.
Maybe she has the right idea.
She has such a definitive, direct way
that somehow works for her.
“Be around happy people.
You live it. You enjoy it.
You move on. Don’t dwell.”
Loss is inevitable.
No one is immune.
Knowing which tool to choose
will naturally lighten the load
to help us
to continue
to carry on.
Judy's mother, “Maryanne”, suffers from Parkinson’s disease. Maryanne is having some struggle with swallowing food as is choking so easily. She lives in a residential care facility as needs help with all of her daily needs. Maryanne has one other daughter, “Ellie”, who also lives nearby.
The two daughters do not talk and are not close at all, although both are devoted to their mother. Judy said that Ellie copes by avoiding the situation. “If she doesn’t see it, it isn’t happening.” Denial is a huge coping skill that allows one to cope by baby steps. Judy then shared how she coped and how it worked so well for her.
It got me to thinking about how all of us do cope in our own way. There really is no right or wrong way to cope. It is important to recognize what we feel, know that it is normal and process it in a way that works for us. This process is so different for all of us. There are times that avoidance allows us to go slowly with our grief. Unfortunately, there are also times when one can get stuck. Grief is so clever as it twists and turns on a moment’s notice.
Ellie may think that her way of coping is as successful as Judy thinks her way of coping is for her. I just know that we all have to deal with loss. No one escapes pain and heartache. I just hope, when needed, that each of us find the right tools that work for us.
TOOLS
We all have learned how to cope
when tough times come our way.
We know what works for us.
But then, we also know what doesn’t.
Each of us are born with a toolbox
full of bright, shiny, new tools.
We may break the wrench or avoid the hammer,
but quickly pick up the screwdriver.
It is such a unique process;
as different as each one of us.
Not one tool is right for everyone.
We all have to figure things out.
Some of us struggle for years.
We may stuff our feelings; ignore our toolbox.
But perhaps it isn’t all that complicated.
Maybe she has the right idea.
She has such a definitive, direct way
that somehow works for her.
“Be around happy people.
You live it. You enjoy it.
You move on. Don’t dwell.”
Loss is inevitable.
No one is immune.
Knowing which tool to choose
will naturally lighten the load
to help us
to continue
to carry on.
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