One doesn't realize the power and strength of emotions until it hits you personally. During my hospice work, I witness such strong emotions on a daily basis. I realize the strength of it, but do not truly feel the power of it all.
My friend, Judy, lives about 600 miles south of me. She was driving home after spending a week with friends. She estimated the drive to take about six hours. Two hours into the drive, she felt symptoms of lightheadedness, a racing heart and becoming flushed. She pulled into a Rest Stop hopefully for the symptoms to subside. They did a little bit, but smartly she called her friend who agreed to come pick her up and drive her home.
Judy called me from the Rest Stop to inform me of what was happening. We spoke several times over the next few hours. I felt so helpless as there was nothing I could do at that moment. She got home late that same night and called her doctor yesterday who directed her to the ER. Judy spent eight hours in the ER with the end result being "All is okay."
During the course of the day, I felt such a strong need to be with her. I offered to fly down to be with her, but she said she is doing okay. She has such a positive attitude about life and laughs so easily.
I could not focus on anything yesterday as all of my thoughts were on Judy. It is such a strong reminder of how life is so fragile and any one of us could be gone at any time. It is a strong lesson about embracing this moment as that is all that any of us have.
THE POWER
I witness emotions
on a daily basis.
Grief, worry, anger, acceptance.
It is always a process; a struggle at times.
I am at awe of how so many do cope.
They have come to terms; to acceptance quite often;
as I frequently hear,
"It is what it is".
One doesn't realize the power of emotions
until it hits one personally and then they truly know.
They feel the tremendous strength overpowering them.
Unable to think clearly about anything else.
She was driving home after Christmas
when symptoms suddenly appeared.
Light headedness, heart racing, feeling flushed.
Stopping at a Rest Stop waiting for it to subside.
They did settle down some, but didn't fully disappear.
Her friend came and drove her the four hours to home.
She spent eight hours yesterday in the ER.
Final outcome, "All test results are normal."
I spoke with her multiple times on the phone.
I so wanted; and needed; to be with her,
but she said, "All is okay. I am going to be fine."
She was coping so much better than I.
I'll call her later today.
We will laugh like we always do.
I so love her with all of my heart.
This is a reminder of how quickly
all of that could be
so suddenly gone.
Saturday, December 29, 2018
Saturday, December 22, 2018
TIMING
I was asked this morning to call a patient's daughter, whose father had died hours before our hospice admission team was scheduled to arrive to open him to our program. Upon her father's death, his daughter, "Jill", called to cancel the visit.
I found out after my call that the patient had died two weeks ago. When talking with Jill, I had mistakenly assumed her father had died within one to days ago. The Admission staff said that they kept wanting to ask me to call her, but it had been so busy so they kept waiting until things slowed down a bit; which was today.
I called the daughter and she immediately started to talk about her father. She shared that her sister had died ten years ago. It was then that she was given a book about the grieving process. She said that booked has helped her so much with her sister's, and now her father's death.
Her father was a very independent, strong person and did not want strangers in the house. She felt he let go before hospice came out as he was always wanting to do things for himself. I spoke with Jill about how patients do let go when the time is right for them. I told her that I could share so many instances about other patients.
She told me stories about her father and her family. Her family was full of so much love and caring for their father and for each other. She so appreciated my call and said that it helped her so much.
It made me think about the timing of my call. The initial goal was to call her two weeks ago, but calling her today was the perfect time. Her father's timing of his death was also perfect for him. Spirituality is such a huge part of hospice which is why I feel so honored to be a part of something so amazing and pure.
TIMING
They wanted me to call her two weeks ago.
They knew she was so sad.
They were waiting until it wasn't so busy,
so I just heard about it today.
I called her early this afternoon.
She was so eager to talk.
She spoke about her father; her family;
sharing wonderful stories about absolute love.
She and her sister were by his side
knowing it wouldn't be long.
She left to make a quick phone call,
then felt a strong urge to go back.
She hurriedly walked to her father's side
when he peacefully took one final breath.
She knew he was waiting for her to be there;
still being a dad; a husband; a grandpa.
I actively listened while validating her grief;
feeling a strong spiritual connection.
"You called me at the perfect time
as I so needed to talk."
The spiritual voice from above
guides us to where we can naturally flow.
We will travel our journey perfectly.
As in this case,
timing was everything.
I found out after my call that the patient had died two weeks ago. When talking with Jill, I had mistakenly assumed her father had died within one to days ago. The Admission staff said that they kept wanting to ask me to call her, but it had been so busy so they kept waiting until things slowed down a bit; which was today.
I called the daughter and she immediately started to talk about her father. She shared that her sister had died ten years ago. It was then that she was given a book about the grieving process. She said that booked has helped her so much with her sister's, and now her father's death.
Her father was a very independent, strong person and did not want strangers in the house. She felt he let go before hospice came out as he was always wanting to do things for himself. I spoke with Jill about how patients do let go when the time is right for them. I told her that I could share so many instances about other patients.
She told me stories about her father and her family. Her family was full of so much love and caring for their father and for each other. She so appreciated my call and said that it helped her so much.
It made me think about the timing of my call. The initial goal was to call her two weeks ago, but calling her today was the perfect time. Her father's timing of his death was also perfect for him. Spirituality is such a huge part of hospice which is why I feel so honored to be a part of something so amazing and pure.
TIMING
They wanted me to call her two weeks ago.
They knew she was so sad.
They were waiting until it wasn't so busy,
so I just heard about it today.
I called her early this afternoon.
She was so eager to talk.
She spoke about her father; her family;
sharing wonderful stories about absolute love.
She and her sister were by his side
knowing it wouldn't be long.
She left to make a quick phone call,
then felt a strong urge to go back.
She hurriedly walked to her father's side
when he peacefully took one final breath.
She knew he was waiting for her to be there;
still being a dad; a husband; a grandpa.
I actively listened while validating her grief;
feeling a strong spiritual connection.
"You called me at the perfect time
as I so needed to talk."
The spiritual voice from above
guides us to where we can naturally flow.
We will travel our journey perfectly.
As in this case,
timing was everything.
Saturday, December 15, 2018
WHY I DO
Hospice work is so rewarding. It may be one word, one phrase or just a smile from a patient or a family member. Our natural flow is to meet patients and families with open, non-judgmental hearts. I truly believe that is ninety-five percent of what makes hospice work. Folks want validation and caring support.
"Kathy", fifty-eight, was diagnosed with throat cancer two years ago. She had been through chemotherapy and radiation which was no longer working. She was admitted to the hospital six days ago due to her having a struggle with breathing and swallowing. She was discharged home this afternoon for hospice follow up.
I met up with her husband, "Don", about forty-five minutes before Kathy returned home. I was able to explain our program to him while giving him the needed support. Kathy came home in an ambulance. When the paramedics wheeled her into the front room, Kathy asked to be helped to the couch. Her body language and face were a perfect example of where she so wanted to be.
I got down on my knee so I could face Kathy eye to eye. I had my hand on her knee offering gentle support. Her voice was so faint and low, but she had several questions about our program. I knew she was tired and so kept our discussion short. In the end, it was a great example of what an impact a few words can make.
Her gift to me was tremendous. I know we as hospice workers help patients and families, but our rewards return to us a thousand fold. Thank you Kathy. Your kindness touched my heart and my soul.
WHY I DO
As hospice workers,
we often get asked,
"How can you continue to do
all that you do every day?"
The answer comes easy.
It is a natural flow.
It is a calling; it pulls us in.
The rewards so amazingly high.
She's been sick for several years.
Chemotherapy, radiation; the works.
There is no more treatment; no cure.
She wants to remain home to just be.
She speaks in whispers, her voice is so faint.
Her goal is to have some control.
"What do you do? How can you help?
How often do you make a visit?"
I educated her about our hospice team
and how we all come with our hearts.
As I spoke about our chaplain support,
I remembered her husband said she was spiritual
with no religious connections at all.
"I heard you were spiritual."
Softly adding, "I am right on that same page with you."
She looked at me so gently asking,
"When will you be back?"
She told me I had made a difference,
while giving a beautiful gift to me.
This is a perfect example of
Why I do;
why I so do;
this divine work every day.
"Kathy", fifty-eight, was diagnosed with throat cancer two years ago. She had been through chemotherapy and radiation which was no longer working. She was admitted to the hospital six days ago due to her having a struggle with breathing and swallowing. She was discharged home this afternoon for hospice follow up.
I met up with her husband, "Don", about forty-five minutes before Kathy returned home. I was able to explain our program to him while giving him the needed support. Kathy came home in an ambulance. When the paramedics wheeled her into the front room, Kathy asked to be helped to the couch. Her body language and face were a perfect example of where she so wanted to be.
I got down on my knee so I could face Kathy eye to eye. I had my hand on her knee offering gentle support. Her voice was so faint and low, but she had several questions about our program. I knew she was tired and so kept our discussion short. In the end, it was a great example of what an impact a few words can make.
Her gift to me was tremendous. I know we as hospice workers help patients and families, but our rewards return to us a thousand fold. Thank you Kathy. Your kindness touched my heart and my soul.
WHY I DO
As hospice workers,
we often get asked,
"How can you continue to do
all that you do every day?"
The answer comes easy.
It is a natural flow.
It is a calling; it pulls us in.
The rewards so amazingly high.
She's been sick for several years.
Chemotherapy, radiation; the works.
There is no more treatment; no cure.
She wants to remain home to just be.
She speaks in whispers, her voice is so faint.
Her goal is to have some control.
"What do you do? How can you help?
How often do you make a visit?"
I educated her about our hospice team
and how we all come with our hearts.
As I spoke about our chaplain support,
I remembered her husband said she was spiritual
with no religious connections at all.
"I heard you were spiritual."
Softly adding, "I am right on that same page with you."
She looked at me so gently asking,
"When will you be back?"
She told me I had made a difference,
while giving a beautiful gift to me.
This is a perfect example of
Why I do;
why I so do;
this divine work every day.
Sunday, December 9, 2018
HER FAITH
I received a call from the hospice office asking if I could stop by a Board and Care home to meet up with a patient's sister. Hospice received an urgent referral to admit, "Jennie" to our program. Jennie's sister, ""Michele" was waiting for me at the facility.
Jennie was being discharged from the hospital late this afternoon. She had suffered a major stroke and was now unresponsive and likely had only hours to a few days to live. I met Michele as we sat in Jennie's room at the Board and Care Home. Jennie was not yet discharged from the hospital.
Initially I asked Michele if she had any questions before I spoke about hospice support and our program. It was then she spoke about her family. She said her mother had eleven children; of which now only six are still alive. Her mother died at age 46 from blood clots and a stroke. She told me that Jennie was a widow as her husband died young over twenty years ago.
While sharing her family's story, she was very unemotional and accepting. We spoke about the tremendous number of losses she and her family shared. I then asked her, "What helps you cope through such difficult times?" Her face lit up as she started to talk about her Mormon faith. It was a beautiful thing to witness the amazing strength and guidance she received from her faith.
None of us can go through life alone. We all need support through times when life challenges us the most. Michele is such a perfect example of how important it is to never feel alone. I wish Michele the best.
HER FAITH
She spoke about her family
and all of the losses they shared.
So many from blood clots and strokes.
A lineage history hard not to ignore.
She was one of eleven children.
Now, there is only six.
By next week, her sister will be gone.
Leaving only five to remain.
She was precise and realistic;
while aware of her sister's fate.
Not much emotion in her voice.
Not being surprised at all.
I spoke about grief, loss and sorrow;
wanting to normalize her pain.
She declined all of the support offered,
"I am going to be okay".
She then spoke about her Mormon beliefs.
How her faith is all that she needs.
Her face lit up when she shared;
"It has, and forever will,
help me through life's tough times."
She is fortunate to have such strong beliefs.
Her devotion helps her to remain strong.
She is, and always will be, surrounded by
her loving family and friends;
but most of all
her amazing and strong,
deep faith.
Jennie was being discharged from the hospital late this afternoon. She had suffered a major stroke and was now unresponsive and likely had only hours to a few days to live. I met Michele as we sat in Jennie's room at the Board and Care Home. Jennie was not yet discharged from the hospital.
Initially I asked Michele if she had any questions before I spoke about hospice support and our program. It was then she spoke about her family. She said her mother had eleven children; of which now only six are still alive. Her mother died at age 46 from blood clots and a stroke. She told me that Jennie was a widow as her husband died young over twenty years ago.
While sharing her family's story, she was very unemotional and accepting. We spoke about the tremendous number of losses she and her family shared. I then asked her, "What helps you cope through such difficult times?" Her face lit up as she started to talk about her Mormon faith. It was a beautiful thing to witness the amazing strength and guidance she received from her faith.
None of us can go through life alone. We all need support through times when life challenges us the most. Michele is such a perfect example of how important it is to never feel alone. I wish Michele the best.
HER FAITH
She spoke about her family
and all of the losses they shared.
So many from blood clots and strokes.
A lineage history hard not to ignore.
She was one of eleven children.
Now, there is only six.
By next week, her sister will be gone.
Leaving only five to remain.
She was precise and realistic;
while aware of her sister's fate.
Not much emotion in her voice.
Not being surprised at all.
I spoke about grief, loss and sorrow;
wanting to normalize her pain.
She declined all of the support offered,
"I am going to be okay".
She then spoke about her Mormon beliefs.
How her faith is all that she needs.
Her face lit up when she shared;
"It has, and forever will,
help me through life's tough times."
She is fortunate to have such strong beliefs.
Her devotion helps her to remain strong.
She is, and always will be, surrounded by
her loving family and friends;
but most of all
her amazing and strong,
deep faith.
Sunday, December 2, 2018
MORE SAD
We admitted, “Johnny”, sixty years old, to our hospice program today. Johnny lives in a filthy Room and Board Home. Johnny had been homeless, so this home to him, is a much better place to be.
The hospice nurse and I met up with Johnny and his case manager, “Joshua”. Joshua works for an agency which is so supportive to Johnny. Joshua visits often and helps Johnny manage what comes his way.
Johnny was very unkempt himself, but seemed comfortable in his environment. He looked up to his case manager as knew how much Joshua helped him. Johnny didn’t seem to mind being admitted to hospice. Johnny didn’t look ahead, but focused on his current needs.
Johnny was a good guy, but struggled so with managing his day to day basic needs. Johnny suffered from throat cancer and struggled with swallowing. He loved chocolate milkshakes and anything sweet. There are no treatment options for Johnny. His terminal prognosis was grim.
The hospice nurse and I wanted to help him so much, but felt helpless. Hopefully, along with Joshua, hospice support can be beneficial to Johnny. He is a strong reminder to me that there are some things worse than a terminal diagnosis; Mental Illness. It makes me question, “Why do so many of us have so much more than others to deal with on a daily basis?” There just is no answer and that is what makes me even more sad.
MORE SAD
I have had moments of sadness
while doing this amazing hospice work.
It comes with the territory at times,
but, what helps, is that love
somehow always prevails.
What helps folks through difficult times
is the love that comes around.
Be it through family, through close friends
or a strong faith that allows them peace.
He, on the other hand, has no close friends.
His family is staying away.
Through no fault of his own,
he has burned so many bridges.
He lives in a room and board setting;
as filthy as can be.
It is cluttered with a strong odor
with rodents scurrying around.
His throat cancer is now terminal.
No more treatment to be done.
He will need nursing home placement soon,
but he just doesn't want to leave.
His heart is gentle; he's doing his best.
He's trying so hard to survive.
But what makes me so much sadder;
is not his terminal cancer,
but his mental illness; his schizophrenia.
I have no answer,
but he is a powerful reminder to me
of how I feel so strongly that;
Life, at times, seems so unfair.
The hospice nurse and I met up with Johnny and his case manager, “Joshua”. Joshua works for an agency which is so supportive to Johnny. Joshua visits often and helps Johnny manage what comes his way.
Johnny was very unkempt himself, but seemed comfortable in his environment. He looked up to his case manager as knew how much Joshua helped him. Johnny didn’t seem to mind being admitted to hospice. Johnny didn’t look ahead, but focused on his current needs.
Johnny was a good guy, but struggled so with managing his day to day basic needs. Johnny suffered from throat cancer and struggled with swallowing. He loved chocolate milkshakes and anything sweet. There are no treatment options for Johnny. His terminal prognosis was grim.
The hospice nurse and I wanted to help him so much, but felt helpless. Hopefully, along with Joshua, hospice support can be beneficial to Johnny. He is a strong reminder to me that there are some things worse than a terminal diagnosis; Mental Illness. It makes me question, “Why do so many of us have so much more than others to deal with on a daily basis?” There just is no answer and that is what makes me even more sad.
MORE SAD
I have had moments of sadness
while doing this amazing hospice work.
It comes with the territory at times,
but, what helps, is that love
somehow always prevails.
What helps folks through difficult times
is the love that comes around.
Be it through family, through close friends
or a strong faith that allows them peace.
He, on the other hand, has no close friends.
His family is staying away.
Through no fault of his own,
he has burned so many bridges.
He lives in a room and board setting;
as filthy as can be.
It is cluttered with a strong odor
with rodents scurrying around.
His throat cancer is now terminal.
No more treatment to be done.
He will need nursing home placement soon,
but he just doesn't want to leave.
His heart is gentle; he's doing his best.
He's trying so hard to survive.
But what makes me so much sadder;
is not his terminal cancer,
but his mental illness; his schizophrenia.
I have no answer,
but he is a powerful reminder to me
of how I feel so strongly that;
Life, at times, seems so unfair.
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