A HARD LIFE

“Dean”, fifty-one, was diagnosed with brain cancer just four months ago.  He underwent chemotherapy and radiation treatments.  Due to the side effects of the treatment, he has not been able to work since that diagnosis.   

 

Dean lives with his wife, “Kristine”, and their two adult daughters in a very small home.  In addition, there are three cats in the home.  Kristine shared that her cats give her so much comfort and support.  In order for us to sit down in the living room, Kristine moved several blankets off the couch.  Kristine started to laugh as one of her cats was snuggly sleeping under the high pile of blankets. 

 

Kristine used a lot of humor to cope.  She was not familiar with cancer and the medical terminology.  She would tease herself when asking us certain questions regarding medical issues.  

 

When the nurse went to assess Dean, she found him struggling to breath even though he was on a high level of oxygen.  In addition, he was minimally responsive.  The nurse told Kristine and her daughters, ‘It appears he is imminent.”  So sweetly, Kristine asked what did imminent mean.  She accepted his fate, like I believe she has done her entire life.  She, also at times, showed a bit of anger, which is a natural grief reaction.   We are logical beings and want logical answers as to “Why?”  There is no logical answer.  He is not being punished or responsible for his diagnosis.  It is just so random.  

As we were leaving, Kristine, so deeply from her heart, thanked us for being there to help.  She has experienced many struggles throughout her life.  I so believe those challenges has enhanced her ability to recognize, while truly embracing that gift as well.  

A HARD LIFE 

 

 

Life has thrown them many curve balls. 

She’s a fighter and accepts this reality. 

He was just diagnosed four months ago. 

He’s also a fighter, although to no avail. 

 

With so much radiation and chemotherapy, 

he could no longer continue to work. 

They have no income as it was just yesterday 

that they filed for his State Disability. 

 

Their two children live in the home 

helping as much as they can. 

One is on leave, while the other disabled. 

She accepts this as their normal life. 

 

He is no longer eating or drinking. 

Weakly speaking only one word or two. 

Family was told he is imminent; 

likely only hours to days left to live. 

 

She and her daughters were so thoughtful and kind. 

One could feel the strong love in the room. 

They all asked us so many questions; 

wanting to hear the exact truth. 

 

She and her family have had a very hard life 

with such limited income to support them, 

but she and her daughters truly and deeply know 

the gift of giving and receiving unconditional love. 

 

She so deeply thanked us for just being there; 

“I am so appreciative that you were here”. 

She recognizes the good in life as it reflects 

beautifully against what she has lived and survived; 

               A hard life. 

ITS PREDICTABLE

 "Jack”, eighty-three, was diagnosed with liver cancer three years ago.  Then, just recently, he learned that his cancer had spread.  Jack took it in stride, like he has done his entire life.  Jack has always lived his life to the fullest while accepting whatever comes along. 

Jack’s wife was on our hospice program two years ago.  They had been married over fifty-seven years.  Jack has two children, who are both very involved and supportive.  His daughter is staying with him for the duration of his illness. 

I did not recognize that I had been there before until I stepped into the home.  But a few miles back when the majority of the drive was residential, it turned into greenery and agriculture.  It was such a peaceful and relaxing drive.  The power of nature is so soothing.  Jack had a very long, dirt driveway that wound about within the greenery.  It was amazing. 

But then, Jack also was amazing.  He totally accepted his status, his poor prognosis with peace.  He spoke about the reality of dying stating, “It is all okay; it is predictable.”  The way he spoke had me wishing I could write music to his harmonious words.  His words, to me, belonged in a song.  Maybe, hopefully, one day they will.

ITS PREDICTABLE

 

He lives on twelve acres

surrounded by green foliage,

tall, magnificent trees,             

               and peacefulness. 

 

The moment I walked inside,

I knew I had been there before.

It was two years prior when we admitted

his wife to our hospice program.

 

It was just one month ago though,

when he heard his cancer had spread.

He accepted it like he has always done

when life guides your journey.

 

“I’ve lived my life to the fullest

without any regrets at all.

It all comes around in the end.

               We all pass on.”

 

“I will go catch up with my wife”.

Then laughing, “If I can find her.

Life is predictable

               It is always predictable.”

FIFTY MINUTES

Four weeks ago, I admitted “Rosa” to hospice.  Rose was eighty-two and had been widowed for many years.  She had one son, “John”, who lived with her; along with his two teenage daughters.  Due to the pandemic, John worked out of the home which made him available to help his mom as needed. 

As Rose’s assigned Social Worker was off for a few days, she asked if I could call John to check in as he never answers his phone.  It has been a challenge for her to connect with John in order to support he and his mom as needed. 

There are five hospice social workers and two of them were off today.  We are a very close and supportive group.  All of us are willing to help each other out as needed.  I had about six other calls to make for the two absent social workers.  My instinct let me know that it was okay to call John last on my list. 

Fortunately, John did pick up the phone.  My conversation with him amazed me.  I called at the perfect time.  I truly know that I was guided from above.  The call and timing were so spiritual.  This is such a perfect example of what hospice gives back to all of us who are blessed to do this amazing work. 

FIFTY MINUTES

 

It was just one month ago

when I first met her and her son.

It was when we admitted her to hospice

as her disease had definitely taken control.

 

She lived with her son and his two teens

in her spacious home near the river.

He worked out of the home so was always nearby

to help whenever a need arose.

 

Their Social Worker asked if I could call her son                           

as he seldom answered the phone.

She wanted to know how things were going;

what hospice could do to help.

 

I had several other calls to make

so decided to call him last.

It was 11:20 when I heard him say, “Hello”.

I then asked, “How is everything going?”

 

He stated, “It has been a long road.

She just passed away this morning at 10:30.

He then spoke about his teen daughters.

He will tell them when they get home from school.

 

I was able to offer condolences and support;

to validate his deep sadness and tremendous loss.

I also spoke about teenagers and their grief

giving him direction and guidance.

 

The timing of my call was perfect.

I know I was guided from above.

I was able to give him what he so needed.

               at fifty minutes past.

 

'I WORK HARD"

“Connie”, just recently turned eighty-nine.  She has lived a long life with few medical conditions.  Connie had been living alone on ten acres out in the country.   There were no family members nearby, but many lived about half an hour’s drive away.  Her family was very supportive and loved her dearly.   

Four years ago, she developed lung cancer.  It has now spread to her bones.  She was able to manage well until a few weeks ago.  Her decline has been swift.  As her daughter stated, “It is at a hurricane rate”.  Where Connie had been walking with a walker one month ago, she is now bedridden due to weakness.  Connie is strong and tough.  That is what has kept her going these 89 years.  She likely held on longer than many of us do, which may have resulted in this steep decline. 

Connie was so gentle and kind to the hospice nurse and I.  She so easily accepted what life brought without a fuss.  When talking about some difficult experiences, Connie would easily state, “It is what it is”.  She had strong beliefs about afterlife and denied any fears or concerns about what was happening to her. 

She just smiled so easily and stated appreciation for us being involved.  What a doll.  I hope our paths do cross again.  She is an inspiration. 

“I WORK HARD” 

They gave us written directions

to easily find her country home.

Look for the produce sign;

then the picture of a man on his tractor.

 

A mile or so later, you will be nearby.

There are no street signs or lights,

but notice the red reflectors guiding you

onto the half mile dirt road to our home.

 

She’s lived to be almost ninety,

even though her life has been rough.

But through it all, she always remains calm;

somehow naturally accepting what is.

 

Surprisingly, no matter what, she’s embraced her life.

Four of her seven children have died before her.

She became widowed nine years ago,

but still her beautiful smile welcomed us in.

 

Life is never that complicated to her at all.

When asked what’s her secret in living this long

while experiencing so many family’ losses,

she will answer so convincingly, so deeply

by calmly saying so simply, “I work hard.

               I have always just worked hard”.

 

 

HUMMINGBIRD

The hospice nurse and I went to admit, “Marty” to our hospice program.  Marty has been struggling for years with a serious heart condition.  He has been in a recent decline as his treatment is no longer effective.  

Marty lives with his daughter, “Cindy” and her husband, “Drake”.  Cindy is totally devoted to her father as they have a wonderful relationship.  Marty’s wife died two years ago on our hospice program.  Cindy, at that time, was her mother’s caregiver as well.  Cindy lovingly stated, “My parents are my best friends.” 

We met Marty in his bedroom which was situated down a long hallway.  It was a small bedroom, but very cozy with his personal possessions.  When we walked into his bedroom,  Marty was lying down with his small dog snuggled next to him. 

Marty spoke so lovingly about his wife.  He has Christian beliefs and knows she is still around.  He spoke about how she wakes him up now and then while he is in a deep sleep.  It gives him comfort knowing that she is never, ever that far away. 

Cindy also shared stories about how she will dream about her mother.  Those dreams tell Cindy, like her father, that her mother is still around.  It gives both of them such comfort and peace. 

From what we all experienced during that visit,  we all know that yes, she is still around watching over them. 

HUMMINGBIRD   

  

He was in his bedroom down the long hall.

It was a small room, but cozy and comfortable.

His dog was snuggled right next to him.

He so genuinely welcomed us to come on in.

 

He sat up on the side of his bed,

with his daughter devotedly by his side.

He spoke about many family stories

which gave him comfort; which gave him pride.

 

He then spoke so lovingly about his wife.

They were married almost sixty years.

She died two years ago on hospice.

He misses her each and every day.

 

He believes she comes to him at night.

“She wakes me when I am in a deep sleep.

She will gently poke my shoulder.

It gives me comfort; it gives me peace.”

 

Suddenly, a hummingbird flew into the bedroom.

It flew in fast, rapid circles above our heads.

Being startled, we all kept saying,

“That is a hummingbird; it’s a hummingbird!”

 

He knew it was his wife coming in to say, “Hello”.

She was letting him know she is always nearby

to give him comfort; to give him peace.

               And now, we all know it too.