NOT YET

The hospice nurse and I went out to admit “Annie”, ninety-five, to hospice today.  Annie had been doing quite well as her tough, positive personality, gave her the strength to struggle through no matter what challenges faced her.  

Annie had such a positive outlook on life.  She told her truth always, but in such a matter-of-fact way.  Annie lived with her niece and cousin, who were her caregivers.  Annie’s husband had been taking care of her, but twelve years ago, he died of a sudden heart attack.  It was then when she moved in with her niece and cousin.  Sadly, Annie’s only child, had died two years prior from cancer.  Annie grieved those tremendous losses, but, on the other hand, accepts it as stated, “That is what life is all about; the good and the bad.  I have learned to accept it all.” 

 

Annie had a great sense of humor, but stated frustration in her recent, rapid decline.  On the other hand, she then would praise her family members for always being there for her.  I felt honored to have met her.  She spoke her truth in such a loving way.  I know she will also accept her decline with grace as that is who she so truly is. 

NOT YET  

 

Fighting poor health has made her strong. 

She became diabetic at age twelve; 

plus, underwent major heart surgery 

when she was in her late twenties. 

 

She has always had this amazing attitude; 

accepting her life challenges when they arrived. 

She’s had hard times like us all; but no matter what 

her outlook always remains positive and sound. 

 

Four weeks ago, her health took a dramatic turn. 

She is sleeping a lot more; while eating a lot less. 

She is so much weaker; no longer walking. 

          “I get so sore from sitting all day”. 

 

She does get frustrated by all this dependency. 

“My body is just giving up! 

I feel like my body and organs 

          are all forgetting how to work!” 

 

Seven months ago, she turned ninety-five. 

When asked about her secret in growing old, 

she strongly and convincingly said, 

“Focus solely on the positives in life; 

         as that is all what so matters.” 

 

She so believes that her recent decline 

is telling her she’ll likely not see ninety-six. 

She has no fears or concerns at all; 

knowing that her time may be somewhat near, 

          “But, not yet!” 

"K"

Eleanor, eighty-two, has suffered from lung disease for many years.  Eleanor was widowed twenty years ago.  She has been living alone since that time.  She is very independent and had been managing just fine.  That all changed a week ago when her lung disease hit her extremely hard.  She is now on continuous oxygen and bedridden.  She is eating very little.  Her biggest complaint is struggling to breathe; which leaves her very weak. 

Eleanor’s five children have rallied.  Four of them live nearby and are so supportive to her and to each other.  The family had the nurse and I laughing from the moment we walked in.  They all had such a great sense of humor.  Humor is such an amazing coping technique as it heartily takes the edge off.   

Eleanor was lying down in the back bedroom.  As we walked into her bedroom, she gave us the most beautiful and welcoming smile.  The moment I saw her, I so deeply knew that her children definitely got their humor from their mom. 

Eleanor did use a lot of humor to cope, but she also had her deeply, precious, serious side.  She spoke her truth about life and death.  She is such a beautiful soul.  Her humor side along with her serious side was such a gracious combination.  I know this family will be okay as they have such a close and supportive relationship with each other and their beautiful mother.

“K”

Eleanor was widowed twenty years ago.

Thus, she has learned to be independent

and thrive while living alone.

Able to do things totally her way.

 

That all changed one week ago.

Her lung disease hit her hard.

She has oxygen continuously,

but still struggles to breathe.

 

We met three of her five kids at the front door.

They so warmly welcomed us into their home.

They cutely joked while we walked in saying

that all their names begin with the letter K.

 

We walked into the back bedroom

where Eleanor was lying down.

She gave us the most beautiful smile;

Inviting us to please come on in.

 

She was as friendly as her children

as I am sure they got their humor from her.

“I understand your children’s names all start with a K.

Should I then call you Keleanor?”

 

She laughed so hard while repeating their names.

“If I had one more, I had a name already picked out.

I would have named him or her Kuits, with a K”,

causing hearty laughter in the bedroom.

 

Her mood then turned serious as she spoke her truth,

“I have no concerns. I am not afraid of death,

as I have told each of my five children;

With every teardrop, a dream will come true.”

 

She kindly said, as our visit came to an end,

“Thank you.  You have supported me so much.”

I couldn’t resist my parting words,

“It been a honor to be here with all of you,

               Kleanor”.

 

THIS IS WHY

As hospice workers, we frequently may get asked on how can we do what we do.  So often folks can only relate to hospice on a personal level.  They know the strong grief and emotions that accompany them when a loved one is dying.  

Yes, I have moments of sadness or grief now and then.  But mostly, I am amazed.  Amazed on how folks are coping; how folks are grieving.  I often will state to patients and families, “This is not what you expected in life, but cream does rise to the top.”  I see so much love in homes.  It is so clear to me that that is what life is all about; “It is not what is in your life, but who is in your life.” 

No one does life well alone.  We all so heartfully need each other.  Often when one asks me how I can do what I do, I speak from my heart. “I receive it back a thousand-fold.”  I feel so honored to be invited into a home.  Always being thanked catches me off guard as I want to thank them for allowing me to just be there. 

When I am called an angel, it honors me.   To me that is the highest compliment of all.  It is humbling, along with telling me that I am absolutely in the right place.  My true thoughts are, “When this becomes work, then I know it will be time to quit!”  Not yet.

THIS IS WHY

 

She was discharged home today

after a short hospital stay.

She expressed a strong desire

not to pursue any further treatment.

 

She is so comfortable with her decision;

as clearly stated, “I am at peace”.

She has a strong belief in Heaven

knowing she’ll again be with her husband;

               her parents; her sister.

 

We offered comfort, we offered support

validating her beliefs; her choices.

Her daughter’s focus was doing things Mom’s way.

She totally accepted her mother letting go.

 

We acknowledged the daughter’s unconditional love

confirming to her that it is the best gift of all.

“It so says a lot about you as her daughter,

while also saying a lot about your mother.”

 

I do believe in Karma.

What goes around does come back around.

She thanked us so beautifully about our support;

knowing she can contact hospice around the clock.

 

She solemnly then turned to me and asked,

“While wearing that shirt,

how do you hide your wings?

               You are truly an angel!”

 

She gave me the greatest compliment of all.

As to me, it gets no better than being called an angel.

But then, likely, I may be Clarence,

               still attempting to earn my wings.

 

We often get asked,                                                                           

“How can you do what you do?”                                                       

It truly is not that complicated

as gracefully stated by one grateful daughter.                                                                     

             This is why.                                                                 

                          This is so simply why.                                     

FLIGHT 111

 

I was told by a hospice nurse that 111 signifies Heaven; hence the title of this poem. 

“Sara”, eighty-one years old, has been healthy her entire life.  The only medicine she has been taking is a multi-vitamin.  Six weeks ago, she went to see her doctor because she had some stomach and side pain.  She thought it wasn’t much as the pain was mild.  After tests and blood work, she heard from her doctor that she had stomach cancer that had already metastasized.  The only treatment was palliative chemotherapy that might shrink the tumors, but the inevitable would still be the outcome. 

The hospice nurse and I met up with Sara and her son, “Donny”.  Donny said his mother has always had a positive attitude about life.  She accepts the good along with the sad.  Sara has accepted this terminal diagnosis the way she has always accepted life’s challenges.  Sara easily verbalized her emotions, her thoughts about life and her love for her family.  

Sara is very spiritual in her beliefs and easily expressed herself in such a beautiful way.  Sara and I immediately connected as her spiritual beliefs matched mine so amazingly.  The moment I received the referral, my first thought was that her name sounded familiar.  I thought that we may have had a patient with that same last name in the past. 

The moment the nurse and I walked into her home, Sara looked at me and said, “I know you.”  Neither of us could figure out where it was.  At the end of our visit, I went out to my car to bring in a few pamphlets for Sara.  I knelt down in front of her and was explaining the contents of the pamphlets, when Sara said, “Our paths have crossed before.”  I truly believe we met somewhere before in a graceful, spiritual moment.  A beautiful thought for sure.

FLIGHT 111

  

She has always been in excellent health.

Six weeks ago, all that changed.

She had some minor stomach and side pain.

She went to her doctor thinking it wasn’t much.

 

After multiple tests and blood work,

she heard what none of us want to hear;

“You have stomach cancer that has already spread.

There is some palliative treatment, but not much else.”

 

“Upon first hearing the news, I was shocked!

I heard the words the doctor was saying to me,

but did not understand the content much at all.

It felt like it was about someone else, not me.”

 

She then processed the words and easily accepted it.

“I have no regrets.  I’ve had a good life.”

Her three children quickly rallied with support,

               “I am not loved; I am beloved”.

 

She has strong spiritual beliefs.

She knows she will be going to Heaven.

She’ll be seeing her parents, her sister.

“I am packed and ready to go.”

 

“I have always loved to travel.

I’ve got my ticket; I am ready to board.

It seems like a good time to go.

I am just taking a different flight.”

               

              Flight 111.