WE ALL

 “Elliot”, sixty-one, was diagnosed with brain cancer four months ago.  He has been receiving chemotherapy for treatment.  His doctor recommended that he continue with that treatment for now.  Elliot is married to his wife, “Nicki”.  They have one son who lives nearby and is very supportive and involved like his mother. 

Nicki’s total focus is on what is best for Elliot.  Elliot has been in a slow decline these past few weeks where he is becoming a bit forgetful.  Nicki works leaving Elliot home alone during the day.  He is safe alone at this time, but it won’t be long when he will be needing additional help. 

Elliot is realistic regarding his diagnosis, decline and poor prognosis.  He spoke about many regrets he has had over his life.  He spoke frequently about, “What I should have done.”   Elliot asked about, “What is the right thing to feel or to do right now?”  I shared with Elliot that unfortunately there are not any rules or steps to follow. 

Elliot was very deep thinking and spoke so eloquently about his thoughts.  I shared with him something I heard a while ago.  It was spoken like it was a joke, but I think it is pretty profound and true.  I told him to,” Be yourself as everyone else is taken.”  I added that if he truly became himself, he would shine. 

I spent the visit time honestly validating his emotions and feelings, giving him permission to be whomever he needed to be.  By Elliot’s parting words of such appreciation, I knew he understood what I was counseling him all about. 

I know he will be fine.  He, looking so intently and deeply into his emotions, can truly give him answers to all those questions he has inside himself.  Good luck Elliot!

WE ALL

 We all have said and done things

we now; likely most of us; strongly regret.

We are the hardest on ourselves.

We don’t forgive or ever forget

what we did or said that was so wrong.

 

He’s been clean for many years;

but has had a long history of drug abuse.

With remorse saying, “It always had to be my way”.

She lovingly then replied, “Not any longer.”

 

He was diagnosed with brain cancer recently.

He’s going through the recommended treatment;

but deep inside knows and has softly said,

“You know I am going to die from this.”

 

He spoke of many life regrets and transgressions;

while asking us, “How am I supposed to feel?”

I then answered, “There is no right or wrong way to feel.

Your heart will guide your emotions

               to where you need to go for you.”

 

“We all have to experience down to appreciate up.

We have to go left to become familiar with right.

We also have to encounter hate; to truly embrace love.

Your moments of regret were your biggest teacher.

               Embrace, learn, grow.”

 

We are logical beings wanting logical answers.

There are no words that can explain life or describe death.

He is now learning from his past mistakes.

Hopefully he can come to terms to forgive himself.

Wisely, with any luck,

               we all can successfully achieve as well.

 

WHAT SHE NEEDS

 

“Anita”, eighty-seven, suffers from Parkinson’s Disease.  Anita is very weak and needs assistance with all of her daily activities.  Anita is married to her husband, “Paul”.  They have three daughters, who all live nearby and visit often.  Anita has been in a recent decline and needing more help.  Paul, who himself is eighty-nine, could no longer take care of her.  Paul is in excellent health, but decided to place Anita into a Nursing Facility so that her increasing needs could be met. 

Anita has been in the facility for about two weeks.  Today, when the hospice nurse made a visit, Anita told her, “I am done.”  The nurse had some concerns that Anita may try to kill herself, so asked that I go out to do an assessment.  

I first spoke with the Nurse Manager at the facility who said that there is nothing in Anita’s room that is dangerous.  She then added, that Anita is so weak, she could not pick up any item if there were one there.  

Anita was sitting alone in the dining room.  She had her dinner before who, although had not yet taken a bite.  I sat down next to her and started to engage with an easy conversation.  I wanted to make a connection with her so that hopefully she would open up about her emotions.  I quietly told her that she was royalty here at the facility.  I then called her Queen Anita.  She easily smiled upon hearing that. 

After assessing her sadness, I asked what makes her happy.  It was then she lit up so brightly while talking about her two granddaughters.  I got another smile out of her when I said her role as Grandma is to spoil her grandchildren.  She had no photos of her granddaughters in her room so I told her that I would talk with Paul about having him bring some pictures down of her granddaughters.

The entire time we were talking about her granddaughters, she just beamed.  She may have some confusion, but she so strongly and dearly knows what is important to her; her two granddaughters.

WHAT SHE NEEDS

 

She’s been ill for so many years;

slowly needing more and more help.

She is wheelchair bound and so weak.

Every action is slow and laborious. 

 

She has some confusion, but hard to tell

as her conversation is difficult and a challenge.

She speaks using only one to two words

            while her voice is shaky and slow.

 

She had been living with her husband,

until this recent move into the Nursing Home.

As expected, she is a bit sad and unhappy,

missing her familiar environment called “Home.”

 

I did a visit to see how she is coping

as she told the nurse today, ‘I am done”.

Somehow to me, her sadness may be normal,

as it can take an adjustment period of not being at home.

 

I asked her, “Do you want to harm yourself?”

She shook her head slowly and simply said, “No”.

I then asked her, “What makes you happy?”

She lit up while slowly saying, “My two Granddaughters”.

 

The moment the conversation was about grandchildren,

her face lit up so beautifully; her body language so engaged.

As I got up to leave, she turned to me and so beautifully said,

               “Will you come back and see me again?”

 

Her level of confusion did not impact her awareness

of what supported her each and every day.

She was able to clearly, although slowly,

tell me that it was simply her two granddaughters;

is all that she will ever truly need.

 

HER WAY

On Friday, three days ago, we admitted “Rita”, ninety-eight to hospice.   Rita was recently admitted into a Skilled Nursing Facility as she was quickly becoming weaker and needing help with all of her needs.  Rita appeared imminent when we admitted her.  She was in a deep sleep with rapid breathing.  She had stopped eating and was only drinking sips of water. 

The hospice nurse and I met with Rita’s daughter, “Stephanie”, in a sitting room to complete the hospice admission paperwork.  Stephanie easily verbalized her emotions, stress and grief.  She was realistic regarding her mother’s poor prognosis.  She shared many stories about her mom.  “Mom was always so organized and competent.”  Stephanie was not surprised at all at how her mother was handling her rapid decline.  Rita always thought of others in such a heartfelt way.  On the other hand, she did life her way which helped her remain so independent for so many years. 

Stephanie said that on Saturday, she and her husband were driving to the Skilled Nursing Facility to visit Mom.  As they pulled their vehicle into the parking spot, they got a call from the nurse that mom had just died.  Rita knows that her mom waited until they arrived.  Mom was still, and always being a Mom, continued to do things her way.  Mom’s last decision on Earth, was to protect her daughter. 

Stephanie shared that this past month has been so hard, but it also gives her and her family such comfort and peace knowing Mom did it all; “Her Way”. 

HER WAY

 

We admitted her to hospice late Friday.

By Saturday, she was gone.

She was a strong, vibrant woman.

Living ninety-eight years; her way.

 

She had been living alone until two years ago.

It was then she moved into Assisted Living.

Then, last week, to skilled nursing

as her needs were quickly increasing.

 

Mom’s final decline came swiftly.

She was hardly eating much at all.

Maybe a small bit of a chocolate milkshake or;

two to three sips of water at best.

 

Her daughter was so realistic.

She knew her time wouldn’t be long.

It was hard to say goodbye,

but seeing her so peaceful,

               allowed her to easily let go.

 

I called her daughter this morning.

“I am doing fine today.

I was a mess on Saturday,

but, I will do it my way;

               one thing at a time.”

 

“She went quickly on her time.

She wasn’t in any pain or discomfort.

She did it her way.

She left in an efficient time.”

 

“We all feel good;

 We all feel comfort;

knowing she did it her way;

                    definitely her way.”