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.