TWO DAYS

The hospice nurse and I went out to do two hospice admissions today.  Both men lived out in the country about an hour drive from our office.  Coincidently they lived about 10 miles from each other and were born two days apart. 

We met with “Dave” and his family first.  Dave was diagnosed with liver cancer just three months ago.  He lives with his wife and three young children.  He has had three chemotherapy treatments with no affect.  Dave was hospitalized a few days ago secondary to an infection.  Yesterday Dave and his wife were told by Dave’s Oncologist that the chemotherapy has not worked and there is no other treatment available.  He recommended that Dave discharge home with hospice support. 

When the nurse and I walked into Dave’s home, he was sitting in a recliner chair in the family room.  He was so weak that his wife had to help him adjust in the seat.  Dave speaks in such a quiet tone with some slurring that he is very hard to understand; although he strongly stated he wants a second opinion.  His wife has already called two other large medical groups for that purpose. 

I told Dave and his wife that he has to do things his way.  Hospice does not come in and demand specific rules.  We support patients and families their way.  I added that he does not want any regrets of “I should have, I would have…..” 

“Nick”, on the other hand was diagnosed at age five with a childhood muscle disease.  Nine years ago, he was put on a ventilator and a feeding tube.  He has been bedridden for many years.  He too, has been in a recent decline to where he is weaker, needing more suctioning.  Nick’s mother is very attentive to Nick.  Due to his recent decline, she is checking him a bit more throughout each day.  With those additional checks, Nick will ask his Mom, “Why are you checking me again?”  

I so believe that each of them truly aware of the reality deep inside.  I also so believe that it must be the most difficult thing for anyone to face.  I wish both of them peace and comfort. 

TWO DAYS

 

He was born on a Tuesday;

while he was born on that Thursday.

Coincidently, just two days later;

same week; same month; same year.

 

Their childhood years were so different.

One would not ever think

that their lives now would be so parallel;

with each man facing similar life struggles.

 

He was diagnosed at age five

with a rare childhood muscle disease.

He has a feeding tube; a ventilator.

He is so weak, he is bedridden.

 

He, on the other hand, was diagnosed

just three months ago with cancer.

He has been in such a rapid decline;

now needing help with all of his needs.

 

Both want to live; want to survive.

Mom has cared for him all of his life.

“When he becomes unresponsive;

then we will know it is time to let him go.”

 

His doctors have told him no more treatment.

The chemotherapy is no longer working.

He wants a second opinion, hoping for a cure.

“I am too young for this to be how it ends.”

 

Both men with a loving, caring family.

Both men not ready to say goodbye.

I don’t blame either of them

as they are only thirty-nine.