YES, I BELIEVE

“Jonathan” was only forty-seven when he came onto hospice with ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease).  Jonathan was totally paralyzed except for his head.  He struggled with communication and had a machine that allowed his eyes to type what he wished to say.  The first time I met up with Jonathan, his brother was visiting from out of town.  Immediately, Jonathan’s humor shined.  He had both of us laughing so hard.  

Jonathan was very realistic and accepting of his diagnosis and poor prognosis.  Through it all, he never complained.  He never felt he was being punished typing, “It is what it is”.  Jonathan had a wonderful and supportive family along with so many friends.  Each time I visited, there were always at least two visitors. 

 

Jonathan’s wife, “Nancy”, was very stoic.  I believe she felt a strong responsibility to make sure all was going well.  Jonathan and Nancy had two pre-teen sons.  I know Nancy was worried about them as much as she was concerned about her husband.   

 

Today, the moment I walked into the lobby and saw that it was her, I had strong guidance from above, to share with her my last conversation with Jonathan.  We both had tears flowing while I spoke with her.  I so believe today was meant to be.   

YES, I BELIEVE 

  

Today was a quiet day. 

Nothing scheduled for me at all. 

Was the day meant to be that still? 

               Yes, I believe it was. 

 

I helped my co-workers out a tad bit. 

Making four to five phone calls is all. 

Was the day meant to be that relaxing? 

               Yes, I believe it was. 

 

She walked into the office early afternoon. 

She asked for help with paperwork. 

They called me up front as knew I was available. 

I hadn’t seen her for over ten weeks. 

 

Her husband was on hospice for almost six months. 

I had only met her twice before, as most visits, 

she was at work and not at home. 

Her focus totally on tasks while trying to cope. 

 

I put my arm around her and quietly said, 

“I will never forget your husband. 

On my last visit with him, I was able to say; 

I have only met two angels in my life. 

Jonathon, you are number three”. 

 

He was an old soul, with so many gifts. 

He is truly a glorious angel; guided from above. 

We both had tears as we both knew, 

she was meant to walk in to meet up with me. 

                Yes, she was. 

 

IT'S NORMAL

These past two months have been a tremendous challenge.  I had an allergic reaction to an over-the-counter cream which left me with inflammation and tremendous raw wounds.  The intense pain and nausea came on so quickly.  It brought up thoughts like, “Why is this happening?  What am I supposed to do?” 

After about five days, the pain and nausea traveled to my stomach.  It was so distracting that the majority of my thoughts were on comfort and/or finding some relief from the intense pain.  I felt so trapped and saw no end in sight.

 Yesterday I had an endoscopy where a small camera was placed down my throat into my stomach.  I was fully sedated and only have memories of waking up in the recovery room.  But the best part of all was learning, “Your exam was normal”. 

Upon waking up this morning I was so totally aware that this was the first time in two months I felt totally normal again.  Today was a routine day, but that routine reminded me so strongly how wonderful normal and routine days are.  Quite often, we take those days for granted as when experiencing them, we never think it could totally end.  We so often take our health for granted, until it is taken away.

I hope to never again take “normal” for granted.  It is a treasure; it is a gift; it is what keeps us going each day.  I have often said to patients and families, “Embrace this moment, as that is all that any of us have.”  Such true words, but so often, so easy to forget.  I hope this is a lesson that I will always remember.  So please, let this also become my normal.

 

IT’S NORMAL  

     

I woke up this morning feeling normal.

It’s been almost two months

since I have felt that amazing,

commonplace, natural trait. 

 

It was just eight weeks ago that I was jolted

so suddenly away from my normal lifestyle.

My control was abruptly swept away

as the pain and nausea were now the ones in charge.

 

My focus swiftly turned to finding relief,

but not knowing which way to turn.

So many physicians puzzled with a diagnosis

as all of my tests kept coming back “normal”.

 

It was likely an allergic reaction

triggering a bacterium which caused an ulcer.

Yesterday, with tremendous relief,

the scope results stated, “Your exam is normal”.

 

It was so wonderful to get up this morning,

take a shower and get dressed for work.

To eat a simple breakfast with no pain at all.

 Everyday tasks; so wonderful, yet so normal.

 

Yes, it’s fun to travel or to purchase a new car;

but what I treasure most is simply being with my family;

spending time with my friends or just going for a walk.

It’s called ordinary; it’s called routine.

 

What I love most of all is so what I deeply cherish.

               It is simply called “normal”.

 

HE KNOWS

“Lillian”, ninety-two years of age, was diagnosed with dementia several years ago.  Lillian has six children, of which none live locally.  “Shawn”, her grandson, is more like a son to her.  She has raised him since he was two years old as he no longer could live with his mother.  Shawn shared that Lillian is “more my mother than grandmother”.   

 

Several years ago, when it became apparent that Lillian could no longer safely live alone, Shawn brought her to his own home.  Shawn has a wonderful, caring wife, “Lauren”, who was very receptive to Lillian moving in.  Lauren works days, while Shawn works nights.  Their schedule is so that Lillian is never left alone.   

 

Lillian has been in a recent decline to where she is sleeping more and eating a lot less.  She has become weaker which increased her dependence.  Shawn and Lauren keep moving forward without any complaints. 

 

Shawn could not thank the hospice nurse and I enough just for being there to sign Lillian onto our hospice program.  Shawn was amazing.  He is so focused on the good in his life; be it situations or people.  His appreciation is so apparent.  At one point, Shawn stated, “I learned from my mother what not to do.”  Even with that statement, it came across uplifting with no hint of a complaint. 

 

Shawn is living his life the best way he knows how; positive and uplifting.  How wonderful that that attitude and personality is being taught to his three young children.  Way to go Shawn!!! 

HE KNOWS 

  

He knows she is his grandmother, 

but is more like a mother to him. 

She’s raised him since he was two; 

when no longer able to live with his mom.  

 

She is now bedridden with dementia. 

Total care is so what she needs. 

He so strongly has to take care of her; 

hence, he lovingly moved her into his home. 

 

She is weaker and sleeping more; 

not eating much food at all. 

He knows her quality of life is gone, 

but is so deeply grieving this huge loss. 

 

Parts of his life have been rough, 

but he chooses to see the good. 

Living through those difficult times 

makes positive moments more noticeable. 

 

When asked what helps him cope, 

he so clearly knows where to turn. 

“It is to my kids where I always need to go. 

New Life; new generation; new future”.

 

He so deeply, so clearly, 

so beautifully, so naturally 

               knows.