HER LAST WISH

 On our hospice web site, it gives our hospice office phone number for readers to call with any questions or needs.  “Janice” called with questions about how to arrange to have her ninety-four-year-old mother admitted to hospice.  Mom lives in another state.  She had been healthy and living her life independently until a few weeks ago when she suffered a major stroke. 

Mom is now in a Skilled Nursing Facility and totally dependent with all of her needs.  Janice was struggling a bit as she lives so far away from her mother.  Fortunately, Janice’s sister lives near Mom.  It was beautiful as the two daughters were so focused on meeting Mom’s needs of wanting comfort care. 

I gave Janice advice and direction on how to proceed with a hospice admission.  It was then when Janice told me about Mom’s final wish.  It is always hard to say goodbye, but Mom’s daughters both know that there is no possibility of recovery from the stroke.  

I wish Janice and her Mom the best.  I know the two daughters will continue to focus on Mom’s wishes and will support her the best way they can.  I wish all of them well.

HER LAST WISH

 

At the end of our lives,

many of us have one final wish;

one final longing we want to realize

before our life is over.

 

I will hear a variety of desires.

Waiting for the birth of a grandchild;

a special anniversary date;

making that ninetieth birthday.

 

Mom just turned ninety-four.

She was doing great until recently

when she suffered a major stroke.

She is now dependent with all of her needs.

 

She has always told her family;

“I would never want to live this way.

If it happens, please let me go

in peace and in comfort.”

 

She recently told her daughter,

“I have accomplished all that I’ve desired.

My final wish was to live long enough

to vote Trump out of office.”

 

“I have done that, and now

all of my work is almost done.

The only thing left for me to do

is to softly and lovingly,

                  just say Goodbye.”

 

TWENTY MINUTES

I had two back-to-back appointments, which typically is not my schedule.  Most admission visits last almost an hour and a half plus more.  Fortunately, the two admissions were both in the same town and about a ten-minute drive from each other. 

My first admission ran short which got me to the second appointment twenty minutes early.  The patient had been hospitalized and was being discharged to a Residential Care Facility, sixty miles from her and her daughter’s home.  The daughter chose this facility because there were several family members who lived nearby. 

We were to meet up with the daughter at 11:30 this morning.  Because my first visit did not run long, I arrived twenty minutes early.  This facility is on acreage with beautiful flowers, baby goats and chickens.  It is like being in a garden.  So relaxing and beautiful.  They have a small five bed hospice building on the property.  I knew we were meeting with the daughter, but I wasn’t sure where she was waiting.  I saw the Nurse Manager on the property and she came up to me and softly told me that the patient had just died. 

It gave me the needed time to offer support to the daughter; which she so deeply needed.   When patients die on hospice, our hospice nurse can do the pronouncement.  Because the patient wasn’t on our hospice program, the facility has to call 911.   The owner of the facility was calling the state to see what the proper procedure was; which gave me the time to give comfort to the daughter. 

It was amazing what the twenty minutes gave to both of us.  She was then stronger to talk with the paramedics, the sheriffs and the coroner.  I did refer her to our hospice bereavement department for follow up.  I wish her well.

TWENTY MINUTES

She was being transferred from the hospital;

over sixty miles away, to the new facility.

Her daughter was going to be there when Mom arrived.

She knew we were coming shortly afterwards.

 

I had an earlier admission that ran short.

I then drove to the facility twenty minutes early.

I looked for the nurse manager to see where to go.

She saw me and softly said, “She just died.”

 

She died fifteen minutes after her arrival.

Her daughter was sitting quietly on the patio

with her hands soothing her face.

“I don’t know what to do or who to call.”

 

I helped her locate a mortuary

while offering condolences and support.

I let her express her grief, her sadness.

Coming to terms with what just happened.

 

She thought Mom would have more time.

She wasn’t quite yet ready for this.

She shared that Mom opened her eyes;

mouthed a few quiet words; took her last breath

         and then peacefully died.

 

I was meant to get there twenty minutes early;

before the paramedics, the sheriff, the coroner.

Talking about specific facts is important,

but what she so needed first,

was comfort; validation of feelings and support.

 

I strongly know that I was guided from above.

I was meant to arrive at that exact time;

to give her what she so deeply needed;

precious time to grieve her tremendous loss;

in an amazing, profound

                  twenty minutes time.

 

 

A FARMER

“Eddie”, eighty-five, came onto hospice today.  He was diagnosed with bile duct cancer just three months ago.  His cancer has already spread to other organs.  Eddie had been a farmer for over forty years.  He has strong beliefs about nature and spirituality.  Eddie is Korean with a clear understanding about his cultural beliefs.  He sees life simply by following those learned guidelines. 

Eddie does not speak English.  His daughter, “Kimmy”, translated for him.  Even though I did not understand what Eddie was saying, his tone struck me as it made his words so beautiful.  He had a strong belief about nature; which was so connected to his spirituality.  I so wish I spoke Korean as I know I could sit with him for hours just listening to his wisdom. 

As I got up to leave, I walked up to Eddie and attempted to simply let him know what a pleasure it was for the nurse and I to have met him.  He slowly said, while holding my hand, “Thank you for coming.”  It was so beautiful.  It also brought tears as he so deeply spoke from his heart.  His daughter lives on an almond ranch and the blooms are just starting to show.  I know he will one day soon have his photo taken under the almond blossoms. 

A FARMER

 

He was a farmer for many years.

He grew rice and sweet potatoes.

He was guided by the weather;

by the seasons; good soil.

 

It was perfect for him

as he lived his life the same way.

Guided by his cultural beliefs,

his religious teachings; his truth.

 

He was living his life to the fullest

guided by his belief in what was right.

He ate a healthy diet; drank plenty of fluids;

ran three to four miles each day.

 

All that changed three months ago

when he was diagnosed with metastatic cancer.

Family is seeing a weekly decline.

He is getting weaker; eating less;

         sleeping more.

 

Not surprisingly, he is following his beliefs.

He is realistic regarding his terminal prognosis.

He is not afraid to die; but will do it his way;

as again; guided by the seasons;

         the weather; the soil.

 

“I am waiting for the almonds to bloom.

I will then dress up in my best suit.

You will take a single photo of me

surrounded by the colorful blossoms.

         Then, I will be ready to die”.

 

It is not difficult for him at all.

He knows exactly what to do.

Being a farmer taught him well.

You plant; you grow; you prosper;

then when it is your time;

         You die.

 

CROSSROADS

The hospice nurse and I met up with “Danny” and his mother, “Cynthia” this morning.  Danny is living on property in a friend’s RV.  He has been living in the RV for several months.  Prior to that time, he was living in his car.  Danny had his first drink at age fifteen.  He learned early that alcohol helped him drown down his pain. 

Danny’s mother loves him so, but feels so helpless as knows there is not much that can be done.  Danny’s liver is failing and he has internal bleeding.  He is very nauseas with makes eating difficult for him.  He cannot keep any food down as it upsets his stomach tremendously.  Danny has been in a recent decline.  He can only walk a few feet without getting short of breath.  His pain is so intense that it leaves him restless while lying on his small couch.  

My heart aches for him.  Was this the only journey he was able to choose?  Life is full of crossroads.  At each crossroad he encountered, he used alcohol to help him move forward across the road.  A part of me feels, if only……  I would like to believe that there are so many amazing journeys for us all, but the journey we all take, is it the only one for us?  Danny brings up so many life questions to me. 

I so wish him peace, comfort, and solace.  It feels that those are his only options for a everlasting crossing.

CROSSROADS

 

He’s been drinking for years.

He says up to 12 beers each day.

His liver is shot; his pain intense;

         not eating much at all.

 

We walked into the motor home;

no heat; no water; no electricity.

He was lying on the small couch;

restless, squirmy, uncomfortable.

 

He heard his doctors strongly tell him

to stop drinking as it will undoubtedly kill him.

But then, he had two shots of vodka before we came;

         “I needed it to calm my nerves.”

 

At thirty-six, he is way too young to suffer so.

Unfortunately, at a very young age,

he believed alcohol was helping him cope

when hitting those challenging crossroads of life.

 

Being with him made me so sad.

I wanted to comfort him; to fix things

while knowing there is nothing more

that anyone could possibly do.

 

His next likely gateway

may be his biggest crossroad of all;

transitioning from a formidable life

         to hopefully; a peaceful afterlife.