GRAIN OF SAND

When I have time, I reach out to my fellow social workers to see if I can do a phone call or visit for them.  One of the social workers asked if I could visit a patient residing in a Skilled Nursing Facility.  The patient has been in a recent decline.  Her nurse case manager feels that her time is near. 

As I walked into the facility, I walked up to the nurse’s station to talk to the patient’s nurse for an update.  The nurse spoke to me about the struggle the patient had yesterday and this morning.  She then added that the patient died fifty-five minutes ago.  The facility did inform the family and hospice.  In fact, the hospice nurse had already made her visit. 

I then turned my focus onto the nurse.  Staff can so easily grieve a loss of one of their residents.  They typically are with the patient so much more than the family.  When I asked her how she was coping with the loss of her patient, she had a surprised look on her face as likely she doesn’t get asked that a lot.  

I was able to counsel her on her emotions and grief while validating and normalizing how she is coping.  To me, it is a perfect example of how powerful “little things” truly are.  I felt I was meant to be there.

GRAIN OF SAND

 

She asked if I could visit

her patient in a nursing home.

The patient is actively dying;

likely within a week or less.

 

The staff and patient need support

as she is in a daily decline.

She has stopped eating and is sleeping more.

Her journey has now gone within.

 

As I walked into the facility,

I initially met with the patient’s nurse.

She spoke about the patient’s decline

in the past few days and also this morning.

 

She then informed me that the patient had died

about fifty-five minutes ago; just before I came.

“We have notified the family members

and the hospice nurse has already stopped by.”

 

I then turned my focus towards her;

as the loss of a patient travels wide.

I was with her for only ten minutes,

but gave comfort and support to help her cope.

 

There is only one Mother Theresa;

as there also is only one Gandhi;

but we so need every drop of water in a waterfall;

and every railroad tie that’s been laid down.

 

I was meant to be there for the nurse.

I validated her grief; her sadness.

The timing of my visit was amazing,

as, for only a moment, I was simply

                    one essential grain of sand.

 

 

 

HIS QUALITY OF LIFE

The hospice nurse and I went out to admit, “Bernie”, to our hospice program.  Bernie, who is ninety-seven, has declined slowly this past month.  His is unsteady on his gait and has fallen multiple times.  With each fall, the family takes him to the Emergency Room to be examined.  Fortunately, Bernie, has not broken any bones, but does have a few bruises from those falls. 

Bernie had been walking with a walker, but since his most recent fall two days ago, he is now using a wheelchair.  Bernie has a large, extended family, who most live nearby.  Two of his children live in the neighborhood along with his eldest granddaughter, “Monica”.  Bernie has a very supportive and involved family.  In addition, he has 24-hour care seven days a week. 

Bernie’s gait is unsteady and he continues to be a high risk for falls.  Bernie is eating mostly only breakfast, but will have cold cereal at dinner time.  He has lost weight in the past several months.  Bernie is sleeping so much more as Monica shared, “He sleeps about eight to ten hours at night; in addition to with many naps during the day”.  

I was so inspired by Bernie as he spoke so beautifully about his blessings in life.  He focused solely on the positives and embraced that amazing support.  He is an inspiration. 

HIS QUALITY OF LIFE

 

“I’ve had a wonderful life.

My family is so remarkable

while my work was so gratifying.

There’s not much left I need

                    or honestly have to do.”

 

He’s lived a long fulfilling life;

always able to manage most all of his needs.

Lately all has noticeably changed.

He’s weaker, falling, sleeping more.

 

He is highly educated and worked with primates;

studying animal behavior at the university nearby.

He served in the Marines during World War II.

He was in combat, but stated,

“I was taught what I needed to learn”.

 

They fear his road may now be headed down;

so, they called hospice in for the extra support.

He was weak and spoke so slowly, but then;

he’ll be ninety-eight in a few months.

 

He spoke so highly and thankful of his family.

He appreciates their support; their kindness; their love.

He has, always and forever, fully embraced his life;

focusing largely on the positives that surround him.

 

When asked about his spiritual beliefs, he clearly said,

“I do not believe there is an afterlife.

Do not hold onto what may likely not be.

Grab your quality of life each day”.

 

“Life is all about living.

Enjoy the riches of life.

It will always, and forever,

                    be there.”

 

HIS TRUTH

The nurse and I went out to admit “Eric”, fifty-seven years old, to our hospice program.  Eric was diagnosed two months ago with a very aggressive cancer.  Since the two months of diagnosis, Eric has rapidly declined.  Eric is very weak and needs assistance with all of his activities of daily living. 

Eric has lived in Montana for many years.  He is single and has no children.  Two days ago, he moved in with his sister knowing that his needs are rapidly increasing.  His mother also lives nearby and is supportive and loving.  

Eric sees the truth about his life and world.  He is so realistic about the good and the bad, that is helps him think about what can he do, if anything, to help himself deal with the reality of the situation.  Eric’s biggest concern was his pain.  Eric shared that he would not mind if he had to be unconscious to control the pain.  Fortunately, hospice’s number one gift is comfort care.  They are so good at it. 

Eric has accepted his fate and poor prognosis.  He denied any fears about what was happening to him.  I am so amazed as it has only been two months since this all began. 

I felt unconditional love in the home, which is the best gift of all, but then, how do they deal with this tremendous loss.  They all were so real in their words.  I spoke with Eric’s mother, who so agreed that this is out of order.  She then added that it is her strong faith which helps her cope. 

I wish this family all of the best and hope that, we as hospice workers, can help them as fully as we can, in order to meet their needs.  I bless them all.

HIS TRUTH

 

He has always been a straight shooter

while accepting his truth as it truly is.

He’s embraced the good in his life

along with accepting the reality of the bad.

 

He was diagnosed only two months ago;

a genetic, but aggressive cancer.

He tried radiation and chemotherapy,

but strongly stated five days ago, “I am done!”

 

His decline has been quick

resulting in tremendous pain and weakness.

He’s moved in with his sister

to get the care that he so desperately needs.

 

When asked about his goals or how we can help,

he earnestly replied, “I don’t want to be in pain;

I don’t want to be a burden;

I want to have quality of life with comfort.”

 

When I spoke about grief and the emotions of loss,

he, not surprisingly, responded in his direct and truthful way;

“I have made peace with it all.

                            I have no regrets”.

 

He sees reality and positively adjusts.

I know he will continue to speak his truth

and will die the way he has lived;

in reality along with

                           his absolute truth.

 

GROWING OLD

The hospice nurse and I went out to admit, “Glady’s, ninety-nine years old.  The hospice referral stated that Gladys had stomach and heart disease.  Prior to walking in, the nurse and I expected to see someone frail and weak due to her age.  As we walked into her kitchen, Gladys was slowly walking toward us with her walker, to welcome us into her home. 

We weren’t quite sure if it was her as she looked so much younger than her ninety-nine years.  She was so alert and extraordinarily funny.  Her three children were there and we witnessed wonderful teasing between all of them.  Gladys was sarcastic in such a fun way.  She laughed so easily while talking about her recent experiences with her health. 

One would think at her age, she would so likely meet hospice criteria, but she did not.  Her health is stable even though she needs help with many things.  We referred the family to our Palliative Care Program for support.  

Gladys appreciated each day she had, but was realistic regarding all of the losses she has experienced over the years.  She spoke sadly about her two husbands and grandson that have died.  She also spoke about the difficulty of losing all of her peers.  She would speak very honestly about those losses, while putting in a bit of humor along the way to help her cope. 

She is an amazing individual who, I know, has touched so many people along the way.  I feel so honored to have met her.  She is a doll!!!!!

GROWING OLD

 

In just two more months,

she will be one hundred years old.

Her doctor referred her to hospice

with stomach and heart concerns.

 

We walked into her charming home

expecting to see someone frail and weak.

We were so surprised to meet her

as she walked over to welcome us in.

 

She looked twenty years her junior

so we weren’t quite sure it was her.

She walked slowly with her walker,

but had a lot of energy to spare.

 

She had beautiful white hair;

held back with a stylish hair clip.

She was alert and so aware,

while she sat us all down.

 

She spoke about all of the losses

that come with growing old.

She has been widowed twice while adding;

                    “All of my friends are now gone.”

 

Her tears flowed heavily

while speaking about her grandson’s death.

“I just don’t like to talk about it much

as it makes my tears so easily flow”.

 

She embraces each day that she has

while so appreciative of her family’s support.

Yes, there is sadness at times with aging,

but she, so amazingly, knows the beauty of

                    Growing Old.