HE'S DONE

 “John”, fifty-nine, had feel experiencing some symptoms a few months ago, which he ignored thinking it would probably resolve itself.  Six weeks ago, John, while riding his bike, crashed and hit his head.  It was at that time that he told the doctors about his symptoms.  After many workups and tests, it was discovered that John had a rare brain disease. 

John has been in a rapid decline to where his wife, “Rachel” is seeing daily changes.   A week ago, John told Rachel, “I am done.”  It was then when he made some powerful decisions regarding his comfort and care.  

John now spends most of his days in a deep sleep.  He likely only has days to live.  Fortunately, Rachel has a strong family support with many friends surrounding her.  She is doing her best in trying to process all of this; saying, “I am only forty-eight and never thinking I would be a widow at this young age.”  

She is supporting her husband in doing things his way.  It is so surreal to her as just six weeks ago, she thought he was fine.  Rachel will reach out to her family and friends as needed.  That is the route she must take to help her through some rough roads ahead.

 

HE’S DONE

 It is happening too quickly.

Just six weeks ago, she thought he was fine;

but then he crashed his bike hitting his head.

His secrets no longer safe inside.

 

He had been having some symptoms,

which he kept only to himself.

She was angry he didn’t share;

thinking then, he would still be alright.

                                                                                            

It is a rare brain disease.

There is no treatment; no cure.

The decline is always so rapid;

giving no time to think things out.

 

His 60^th birthday is in two months.

He was talking about what he wanted to do.

Now it is likely he won’t see next week.

His time is coming oh so fast.

 

She moved him into a facility today.

No longer able to care for him at home.

Now speaking mostly with just one word or two;

he is bedridden and totally dependent.

 

He has no fears about dying.

He just wants to be in control.

He is Atheist with no afterlife beliefs,

but has come to accept it all.

 

Four days ago, he stopped eating.

He stopped drinking water as well.

He’s not able to control his life,

but now has some power over his death.

 

“I want this over now.

         I am done.” 

 

 

TWO MOMS

I did back-to-back admissions today.  It was surprising how similar both of these patients were to each other.  Both were struggling with their illness for over ten years.  Both were discharged today from the hospital.  Each were told by their physician that there is no further treatment.

Each child moved into their mother’s home as know they need the additional help.  “Irene” is only fifty-two.  Her lung cancer has spread to multiple organs.  Her biggest complaint is weakness.  She walks very slowly using her walker. She has had two recent falls due to her weakness.  Irene and her family are from Russia.  Irene and her son, “Tim” are both bilingual.  Irene’s mother speaks only Russian.  Her mother sat with us while I explained the hospice program.  Tim was translating, but she didn’t say much.  One could see the obvious grief in her face.  I gave her a hug right before I left.  She just melted into my arms.  This is a mother’s worse nightmare.

“Ken” is forty-three.  He suffers from liver disease and has been sick for years as well.  He had been managing okay until four days ago when he collapsed at home.  He was taken to the hospital where he was also told that there is nothing more to be done.  He had two dialysis treatments and then said, “No more”.

Ken told his mom and family that he was done and wanted to go home to die in peace.  Ken spoke his truth which helped his family know what he deeply wanted to do.  Ken is at peace about his decision.

Ken’s mom is trying to be strong, but really doesn’t know what to do.  She has tremendous support from her sons and from many friends.

I wanted to say the right words to both of these moms, but there are none.  I gave each mother a hug as I had no words.  I so strongly feel that no parent should ever have to attend a child’s funeral.  I wish both moms strength, prayers and support.

TWO MOMS

 

Two moms losing a child.

One, her daughter, only fifty-two.

The other; her son being a bit younger;

         He being forty-three.

 

Both have been ill for many years.

Each with treatment slowing their decline.

But now suddenly, no more to be done.

Both discharged home with hospice coming in.

 

Her mom doesn’t speak English,

but the grief so authentic in her sorrowful face.

His mom is trying to remain strong,

but the reality of it all is so overwhelming.

 

Her daughter feels cheated by her cancer.

“I had so many more things I wanted to do.

Now I am emotionally tired.

         This is so unfair!”

 

Her son told his family,

“No more dialysis; no more treatment.

I am ready for this all to be over.

         I just want to go home.”

 

Both moved into their mother’s home

knowing they need the extra support.

Their families are rallying around them,

struggling with saying goodbye.

 

There is nothing magical to be said

as losing a child is so out of order.

A parent never wants to let go.

These two moms surely feel

         that same tremendous pain.

 

There are no words; no miracles.

Hugs and prayers are all that we can give

         to the two maternal,

                  grieving moms.

 

FROM ABOVE

“Laurie”, seventy-seven, has been in poor health for several years.  She’s had COPD, a lung disease which left her needing some additional help with house cleaning and cooking.  Laurie has had caregivers coming in for several years to help her with those chores.  Five days ago, Laurie collapsed suddenly and was rushed to the hospital.  It was there she was informed it was her lungs which caused her collapse.  She will now need oxygen on a continuous basis. 

The doctors told her that there was nothing more to be done.  It was then when she was referred to hospice.   The hospice nurse and I went out to Laurie’s home and met two of her closest friends.  A few minutes after our arrival, the ambulance brought Laurie home.  She looked so weak and frail.  She had a difficult time keeping her eyes open.  When she spoke, it was in a very soft tone and only a few words at a time.  

It is spirituality which draws me to hospice.  When I walk into a patient’s home, I will “let go” and allow myself to be guided from above.  I wanted Laurie to know that we were there to support her and her family and friends. 

I bent down close to her and lightly laid my hand on her shoulder.  It was then I gently asked her about any fears.   I felt a presence in my soul.   I was then guided from above as my words were not me speaking, but my spirit was guiding me. It makes sense to me that it was Ellie speaking through me.  But whether that is true or not, the right words did come through. 

When I allow my spirit to guide me, the words are always the right thing to say.  This is the true reason why I am in hospice.  I see true life right before my eyes.  All of us will walk this journey just once.  I am so honored to be able to witness such glorious and beautiful moments.  

ADDENDUM:  Laurie died peacefully two days later with her family and friends at the bedside.

FROM ABOVE

 

She collapsed quite suddenly

thinking she had a stroke;

but it was her lungs failing her.

Continuous oxygen is now the plan.

 

She was hospitalized for treatment.

Nothing more to be done.

She likely has only days or just a bit more.

A dramatic change of health.

 

Her friends are rallying around her

helping out as much as they can.

Her family is flying in tomorrow.

They know it is to say goodbye.

 

She lost Ellie, her life partner

about four and a half years ago.

She was the love of her life.

Photographic memories lining her walls.

 

She has strong Christian beliefs,

but has been non-practicing for years.

I bent down to be near her face

and placed a soothing hand on her shoulder.

 

I softly asked if she had any fears.

Her reply came from deep in her soul.

“I am afraid to die, but this is so hard.

         I am ready to go”.

 

Being guided from above, I gently said,

“Ellie is waiting for you in Heaven.

I crossed over seven years ago.

I so truly know how beautiful it is”.

 

She slowly turned her head toward me

and from the depths of her soul quietly said,

         “I love you. 

                     I love you.”

 

MARY LOU RETTON

For the first thirteen years of my career, I worked in a hospital as a medical social worker.  I was assigned to the Emergency Room, but also saw patients who were admitted up on the floors.  Now and then, when I am talking with someone on the telephone, they will hear my name as Mary Lou Retton.  I also correct them with a bit of humor, typically saying, “I don’t do back flips”.  Then sometimes adding, “If I did a back flip, you would be calling 911”.   

 

The first experience of this happening was not long after I started my work in the hospital.  I met an elderly woman who was admitted to the hospital.  After talking with her for a short while, I felt she would benefit from a Meals on Wheels referral.   She was doing quite well at home and didn’t need much more than that. 

 

Two months later, she returned to the hospital suffering from pneumonia.  I received another referral for her and went up to meet her again.  It was during this visit when I first experienced a patient mistaking my name for the gymnast.  Every now and then I will share this story with a patient or family member who asks me what my name is.   

 

I have always felt that at least my name is close to someone talented with a positive reputation. It makes me wonder how those with names similar to serial killers, or other persons famous for all the wrong reasons, handle things.   

 

I know it will probably happen again.  And again, I will grab it and laugh about it.  Thank you, Mary Lou Retton.  

MARY LOU RETTON 

  

My name is similar to the Olympian; 

gold medal gymnast Mary Lou Retton. 

Now and then that is what folks hear; 

         especially over the telephone. 

 

I met him about six weeks ago. 

He wanted to hear what hospice was all about. 

I gave him information about our program 

leaving literature, as well, for him to read. 

 

He asked me about my name. 

I said he will never forget it 

as it is close to the Olympic gymnast. 

Then added, while laughing,  

         “I don’t do back flips.” 

 

He was admitted to the hospital yesterday. 

They told him it is now time for hospice. 

He told the medical staff to contact Yolo Hospice 

as Mary Lou Retton really helped him. 

 

Years ago, I met a patient in the hospital. 

I didn’t do a whole lot more than 

refer her to “Meals on Wheels”. 

Two months later she was back. 

 

“I don’t know if you remember me. 

I am Marilou Rennie.  I met you before.” 

I have never forgotten her answer back to me. 

“You totally changed my life. 

         I love your gymnastics!”