PURE LOVE

Prior to admitting, "Barbara", sixty-eight, to our hospice program, we heard from the patient's medical staff that Barbara's daughter, "Jennie", was having a hard time dealing with her mother's recent changes in physical condition and current status.

I went out with the hospice nurse to do the admission. Jennie answered the door and the three of us spoke for about fifteen minutes standing in the entryway. Jennie was tearful and grabbed tissues to wipe away her tears. Jennie spoke so lovingly about her mother. It has just been the two of them supporting each other for years.

Barbara's status rapidly changed about ten days ago. She has become so much weaker. In addition, she has stopped walking and eating. Her speech is garbled while speaking only a few words at a time. It appeared to the nurse and I that Barbara had such a strong personality which she was holding on for as long as she could.

Because Barbara has been so inactive for a week and a half, she started getting some bed sores. Jennie blamed herself that those sores were not healing. She so strongly wanted to fix all that was wrong. I normalized and validated her emotions and grief. I told her that she is doing all the right things and is giving her mother the most perfect and beautiful gift of all; her pure love. The best gift any mother would lovingly cherish.

Jennie touched my heart so deeply. When I asked Jennie about what helps her cope, she quickly answered, "I talk to my Mom". God bless you Jennie. Your mom taught you all about pure, unconditional love.

ADDENDUM: Barbara died two days later. I spoke with Jennie today to check in with her to see how she is coping. Jennie stated that, "I was shocked when it happened, although I knew it was going to happen one day. I have been grieving a long time for my mom. Hours before she died, I spoke with my mom about how I will live my life after she is gone. I told her, I am going to get a puppy." Jennie was able to laugh and share stories about her mom. She stated appreciation on how much support hospice was for her. She was receptive to follow up with our Hospice Bereavement Department for support as well. I wish her all the best.


PURE LOVE　

She continues to be on my mind.
I can't stop thinking about her.
About her pain; her loss;
her denial; her pure love.

It's been just her with her mom
for more than thirty plus years.
There is no other family;
          just the two of them.

Mom was diagnosed ten years ago,
but for all those years has been doing fine.
Her daughter saw that mom needed a bit of help
so moved in with her several years ago.

All has changed these past ten days.
Mom is no longer walking; no longer eating.
She spends her days asleep in her recliner.
She is imminent with likely only days.

"Mom has always been so strong.
She'll get better and start eating again
as she always has before.
          I know she will!"

The daughter was tearful throughout our visit;
blaming herself for not being able to fix things.
Walking away several times, with tissues in hand,
checking on how Mom was doing.

Denial is helping her cope in baby steps.
She may not believe until all is over.
Her only support then,
          will be hospice.

We will reach out and I hope
she so willingly will receive
          our pure love.



　

MY LIFE'S PASSION

Hospice is considered an essential agency. Our hospice nurses and home health aides have continued to meet with the patient and their families in their homes or the facilities where they reside. The Social Workers and Chaplains do the majority of their patient/family interaction over the telephone.

If we do visit a patient in person, we must ask questions first about having any virus symptoms. If they do not have symptoms, which is, fortunately, what most all say, we can go in wearing gloves and face masks.

For the past seven weeks, I have been doing all of the admission by telephone. It is so much harder as one has to totally focus on hearing. We cannot use our other senses to help us assess patient and family needs or concerns as easily. Whenever I walk into a patient's home, I let go and allow myself to naturally be there. One cannot do that on the telephone as your focus is totally on listening.

Hospice received a referral today to admit an eleven year old girl with leukemia. She was diagnosed just a year ago. She is now so weak, is on oxygen, and gets short of breath with any endurance. She was discharged from a hospital today after a ten day stay for treatment.

The nurse and I met in front of her home a few moments before the ambulance arrived bringing her home from the hospital. We met with her parents and her two siblings. It was such a wonderful, loving family. It just melted my heart. I spoke with the eleven year old and she was such a wise old soul. Her mom told me that she has always been that way.

While driving home from the admission, my heart was so full of love while shedding a few tears. I so know that this is where I need to be. This is what I am suppose to do. It is definitely my life's passion. A beautiful reminder to help me through these next few weeks, whatever they will be.



MY LIFE'S PASSION　

She asked me to accompany her.
She didn't want to do this admission alone.
"The patient is only eleven years old.
I so need someone to be with me."

I have been doing all the admissions by phone.
So not as effective as when in person.
The COVID-19 virus has challenged all of us
to do our jobs, while isolated, as best as we can.

It's been over seven weeks of isolation for me.
I so miss being in a patient's home
to give comfort; to give support.
Admissions by phone is not a job well done.

Outside on her front lawn,
making sure the family and we were safe,
we put on our gloves; we adjusted our face masks,
before we walked into her home.

Walking through the front door, I instantly knew.
It felt so normal; it felt so comfortable.
This is where I need to be;
this is what I am suppose to do.

My heart embraced their presence.
My soul filled with compassion.
It is what makes me real.
It is so what makes me whole.

It truly is, without a doubt,
          My Life's Passion.
 

GOOD CLOSURE

“Henry” , aged ninety-five, was admitted to our hospice program last summer due to lung disease. He was struggling a bit with breathing and, it was then, he started to use oxygen. Henry has been widowed for many years and has one daughter, “Cindy”. Cindy lives nearby and would visit her dad every day. Both of them embraced their relationship and so enjoyed seeing each other.

Henry was fairly stable throughout most of the time he was on our hospice program. I would call Cindy once a month to check it. It was always a fun telephone call as Cindy would share stories about her father. Cindy would also tell stories about her husband and two adult daughters. Cindy truly also loved her family. She learned all about unconditional love from her father.

It was hard on Cindy when the Nursing Facility started to not allow any visitors into their establishment. They were strongly following the Corona Virus precautions. When I would talk with Cindy, she would state understanding about not being able to visit, but it was, not surprisingly, very hard on her.

I heard today that her father died early this morning. After a death, I typically wait until the next day to call family to offer condolences as I know that they likely will be very busy on the phone with family and friends.

Henry’s hospice nurse asked me to call Cindy as she had questions on what to do and who to call upon someone’s death. I called Cindy and was so touched by what she had to say. Again, she had such an upbeat personality just like her father. He taught her well.


GOOD CLOSURE　

He turned ninety-five last Summer.
He's lived a good, long life.
He's been on hospice for almost a year.
Living his life in such an upbeat way.

He's resided in a Nursing Facility
for almost the last three years.
He loves his daughter so unconditionally.
She visits him faithfully every day.

Six weeks ago, all that changed.
The Corona Virus invaded our lives.
Families were no longer allowed to visit.
She could only see him from his outside window.

These past few weeks have been hard on her.
He’s been in a slow, but continuous decline.
He was eating less and sleeping more.
He no longer could get up to peek out his window.

He died peacefully in the early morning hours today.
It was definitely his perfect time to go.
I was concerned on how she was coping.
Age doesn’t matter at all when it is your father.

I called her to check in; to offer support.
She said, “I am doing great now.
I’ve been with dad these past three days
as the facility did allow me to be with him.”

The facility knew he was imminent.
They gave her the time to tell him goodbye.
To say “I love you dad” one more time.
          To give her “Good Closure.”


　

WESLEY

"Rita", who is sixty years old, was diagnosed with Stomach Cancer three years ago. She recently stopped all of her chemotherapy treatment as it was no longer helpful. Rita lives with her husband, "Randy", and their four year old Black Lab, Wesley.

Animals have keen insight with a strong sense of their surroundings. Wesley knew about Rita's cancer one month before she was diagnosed. It came naturally to him. It so strengthened the bond between Wesley and his Masters. Amazing.


WESLEY

Wesley is a black Labrador Retriever
weighing a bit over fifty pounds.
He is four years old about now
maintaining his loving, puppy personality.

When Wesley was eight months old,
the family noticed some interesting changes.
Wesley would stay by his master’s side
softly nuzzling and sniffing her abdomen.

He continued to frequently go to her
sniffing and nuzzling all the while.
After four weeks of this behavior
she started to have stomach cramps.

She saw her doctor the following week
to have everything checked out.
Two days later she heard the news,
"You have Stomach Cancer."

They told her oncologist about Wesley.
About how he was behaving this past month.
The doctor wanted to meet Wesley;
so at her next appointment,
they walked him into the Chemotherapy room.

Wesley became suddenly overwhelmed.
He kept running from patient to patient.
He sensed the cancer all around.
They had to quickly walk him away.

Wesley is a highly sensitive dog.
It comes naturally from deep in his soul.
The family is amazed and love him all the more,
"He sniffed her cancer out
          Somehow he just knew."

Wesley.

　 

FOR HER

'John", seventy years old, was diagnosed with Lung Cancer seven months ago. He tried chemotherapy to no avail. His doctor recently offered another treatment, but John had had enough and declined all further options.

John is married to his wife, "Leslie". I spoke with Leslie on the telephone to introduce her to the Social Work role as part of the team. I immediately heard the love in her voice that she had for John. It was so sweet and beautiful at the same time. John's disease has left him bedridden for most of the day. He will only get up to use the bathroom. He gets short of breath so easily with any endurance.

She shared stories about their life; their family and their friends. John still has hopes that he will get better, although has accepted hospice into his home with kindness. Whereby Linda shared how much she loved him so unconditionally; John showed Linda the same love. He came onto hospice totally just for her. It was so beautiful hearing about their marriage; their love. No matter what happens, they will all be okay because of the deep love they both have for each other. Truly one of life's special gifts.


FOR HER　

They have been married forty years.
It was true love right from the start.
Raising children while running the household.
So appreciating now as it's just the two of them.

He became quite ill seven months ago.
His disease has rapidly spread.
He is now bedridden; no longer gets up;
keeping her home taking great care of him.

She will do anything for him;
no matter what needs may arise.
She never complains as wants to help.
Her unconditional love so plentiful.

She says, "He is my soul mate; my rock.
I love him with all of my being."
She accepts his disease; his limitations
caring for him with her tender heart.

They were recently informed about hospice.
His doctor thought the time was right.
He still had hopes of getting better.
          "I'm going to be just fine."

He told her he didn't want hospice,
"This is not the right time for me."
But in the end, when he heard her words;
"I want hospice. Do it for me."
He easily said "Yes.
          He did it lovingly just for her.