HER LANGUAGE

The hospice nurse and I went out to admit, “Mitchell” to our hospice program. Mitchell has been suffering from brain cancer for several years. He had been doing quite well until ten days ago when he took a sudden fall. After the fall, Mitchell rapidly declined. He is now bedridden, weak and needing help with all of his needs.

Mitchell lives with his wife, “Andre”. Andre and Mitchell are both retired University Professors. They are both very intellectual when speaking. Both are direct and to the point. Mitchell has totally accepted his status and poor prognosis. He wants it over. He denied any fears or concerns about his dying.

Mitchell’s family all live out of state, but the couple has a tremendous support network of friends who live nearby. Mitchell has stated that he no longer wants any visitors. He wants to focus on dying. He is processing about what options are available. It is all so simple to him.

Andre, on the other hand, wants to follow her husband’s wishes, but needs time to process her grief and emotions. Her natural way of thinking is the intellectual way. Unfortunately, thinking intellectual can often overlook one’s deep emotions and grief.

It was a challenge to me to keep to the nuts and bolts of hospice, but I knew that was likely the best way to communicate to her. Mitchell slept through much of the meeting, so the majority of my conversation was directed toward Andre.

I walked away feeling so sad about what this couple is going through. I didn’t feel like I helped Andre much at all, although maybe I did more than I thought while speaking her language. One thing I know, Andre has a tremendously large network of friends. She will, hopefully, get her needed support from them.


HER LANGUAGE

He was diagnosed several years ago
and had been doing quite well.
Ten days ago, all has changed.
He is now weak, bedridden and dependent.

He is so sure about his wishes.
He is ready for it all to be over.
He denied any fears or concerns,
"When do they pull the plug?"

Both are University Professors.
Both have brilliant, academic minds.
She is attempting to intellectualize her feelings,
although her emotions are screaming so loud.

She wants to follow his wishes,
even though they are not hers.
She doesn't want to acknowledge her grief.
The pain is way too great.

I kept to the nuts and bolts
while explaining our hospice support.
It isn’t my language at all,     
but likely the best dialect she could hear.

I wanted to normalize her fears.
I wanted to validate her emotions.
Hopefully, I was successful in supporting her,
using her language
         that was foreign to my ears.

"THANK YOU GOD"

A Hospice Volunteer Coordinator, I worked with years ago, had this amazing sign in her office. It simply said, "You don't choose hospice, hospice chooses you." That statement to me is profound and so true.

I have always been interested in death and dying for whatever reason. Maybe because I was born three months early and was not expected to survive. In high school I took a Career Planning test which came up mortician. During those years, hospice was not a noteworthy profession. My natural spiritual path led me directly to hospice.

We often get asked how can we do hospice? The primary answer is that the work we do is so fulfilling and rewarding. Each day, we hear in words or see on people's faces, that we have made a positive difference by our support. I truly feel it is my life's passion. I will continue to do this work until I can no longer. It is that special to me.

Today's case was a prime example of why I keep getting up each day to continue doing hospice work. The rewards are amazing and so humbling. When patients or families tell us thank you, I want to say, "No, thank you for welcoming us into your home, sharing something so intimate during such a heartbreaking, vulnerable time." It is an honor to witness so many amazing moments.


"THANK YOU GOD"

I have been blessed this life.
I talk to God every single day.
It is not prayers, but a conversation.
"Thank you God for all that you give me."

The gift of doing hospice work is amazing.
Meeting people struggling with a terminal disease.
Hearing their stories; giving them support.
It doesn't get much better than that.

People often ask us,
"How can you do hospice work?"
I say, "It is a calling; it is a passion.
The rewards so remarkably high".

They hoped Mom would be okay.
They hoped she would bounce back.
But the pneumonia was way too strong.
She is now imminent; close to death.

Meeting them for the first time today,
they were ready to hear what I had to say.
I normalized their sorrow; I validated their feelings.
I counseled all on grief and loss.

They gave me so much more than I gave them.
"You need to teach. You are so good at this."
"You helped me more than you will ever know.
          Thank you so much."

My eyes filled with gracious tears.
I am doing my life's work; my passion.
Driving away from their home,
I looked upward and again said,
          "Thank you God
                  for all that you give." 

MOTHER'S DAY

My son, Mark, is a comedy writer living in Los Angeles. He has written multiple scripts titled "Magnificent Moms". Each Mother's Day, for several years, the local Hollywood theater he is connected with, lets Mark produce one of his shows. The show this year will have local comedians on stage with their own mothers to either sing, do a skit, dance etc. Mark has asked me to emcee the program with him. I have never done anything like this before, but Mark says I will do fine and not to worry.

In addition, Mark has asked me to write a poem about Mother's Day to read on stage. That is one thing I am comfortable doing. Mark reassures me that I will do well. I will just go with the flow and have fun with it all.  One thing I know for sure, I am a proud Mom of two amazing sons.  Happy Mother's Day to all of you. 


MOTHER'S DAY

My son spoke about Mother's Day.
He asked me to write a poem.
My mind went into so many directions.
How can I capture it in just a few words?

The miracle of birth left me awestruck.
How do I care for someone so small?
I relied on Dr. Spock's instructions
guiding me with my first diaper change.

I didn't know much about raising kids,
but one thing I was sure.
Let them know how much they are loved.
The rest should hopefully, fall into place.

I embraced each moment wanting no change,
but then was so excited seeing them grow.
Watching them make friends, play sports, acting in plays.
Experiencing new adventures; following their dreams.

In the end, maybe it isn't that complicated at all.
You love them; you support them; you laugh and you cry.
But for me, the best thing about being a mom
is knowing that my sons are happy
                   and they do truly love me too. 

"MY HEART"

"Saul", sixty-eight, was diagnosed over two years ago with Pancreatic Cancer. At the time of diagnosis, doctors predicted he having only months to live. Saul went through chemotherapy and radiation treatment successfully. In the past weeks though, Saul has been in a decline. He is continually queasy and on a liquid diet as food makes his nauseous worse.

Saul lives with his wife, "Anna". They have four children who are very supportive and caring. Anna's phone continued to ring throughout our visit. It was supportive family and friends calling to check in how things were going.

Saul and Anna's home was simply decorated. It was very clean and neat having no excess belongings around. Saul asked all about his stomach pain, wanting to be clear on how to take the pain medication. Once he was satisfied that he understood, he had no other questions. He denied any fears or concerns about his terminal prognosis.

Anna, because of her strong faith, also saw life like Saul. Life was not that complex to the couple at all. Anna truly believed life's journey was all guided by God above. She accepted life no matter what came their way. She was so appreciative of hospice's support truly believing God had sent us to her front door.

What a beautiful soul. Her wonderful love of family, along with her strong faith, guides her peacefully. Talk about wisdom!


"MY HEART"

The moment you walk into her home,
you get a sense of who she is.
Her home is minimally decorated;
no clutter; no knick-knacks; no mess.

Her Muslim faith nourishes her;
clarifying her strong beliefs.
Life is not that complex to her.
She knows it is all in God's hands.

She graciously accepted hospice into her home,
trusting us to know how best to treat her husband.
He was diagnosed over two years ago.
Living so much longer than predicted.

She willingly accepts life's challenges,
trusting completely in God's spiritual plan.
She knows his disease is terminal by asking,
          "How long will it be?"

I asked her, "How are you coping with this?"
Her answer, simply put, said it all.
"God is in my heart.
          Husband is in my heart."