YOUNG AT HEART

We admitted “Mary” to our Palliative Care Program today.   Mary had been living alone and very independent until recently; whereby due to knee pain, it became a struggle for her to be able to handle some household and personal tasks. 

Mary’s husband died suddenly at age forty from a heart attack.  Both of her sons live on the East Coast, whereby Mary learned to manage her needs effectively.  Mary uses a walker to ambulate secondary to her knee pain.  She has hired caregivers five hours each day to help.  She has also hired a case manager to assist her with tasks that do arise. 

Mary had a wonderful, sarcastic humor.  She laughed so easily with a personality so full of life. She was real about it all and totally accepted her life as it was.  She had such a positive outlook on whatever came her way. 

Mary had very few health problems.  When we admit patients to hospice or palliative care, we typically see multiple health problems listed on their medical records.  Mary’s records just showed pain and a rapid heart rate at times.  We knew she would benefit from Palliative Care support.

 Meeting Mary was indeed very special.  She was spunky and tough.  There is no greater compliment I can ever give to anyone.  Thank you, Mary, for totally being you.

YOUNG AT HEART

 

Being totally independent,

she has lived her life fully.

Her husband died sixty years ago;

while her two children reside out of state.

 

Until two weeks ago, she needed no help;

but then, fatigue and knee pain set in;

making it hard to complete some tasks.

She then hired help for five hours each day.

 

We met with her to admit to Palliative Care.

Her hired case manager was there as well.

She was able to walk slowly using her walker

while graciously offering us a place to sit.

 

We asked questions about her health care,

while also asking, “How can we help?”

When asked, “What is your secret for living a long life?”

“Do everything in moderation.

                           It is as simple as that”.

 

A medical diagnosis is needed

when admitting to our program.

Her heart may race now and then,

which allowed us to use Tachycardia to let her come on.

 

At one point she shared, “They tell me I am old”.

I replied, “With your gregarious and humorous personality,

you are one of the youngest souls

                         I have ever met or known.”

 

She was so full of life; of laughter; and so much fun.

It is hard to believe that with her next birthday;

only three weeks away next month;

she will be turning a very young 102.

 

I WAS GRIEVING

I have been a hospice social worker for over thirty years and have had moments of grief now and then.  When we face a lot of sadness and loss, it can occasionally distract us of our own true emotions.   While body language is so strong and powerful; emotions too, can often be so true and deep.  The patient, “Lea”, had been married to the step-son’s father for about eighteen months. The step-son, “Jake”, and the patient had met only a few times. One additional barrier was that Lea did not speak English.  Watching the two of them together was so gentle and loving. 

Lea has a daughter living overseas and Jake does not know her name or contact number.   Another sad fact was that Lea was only sixty-five while her deceased husband was just sixty-one. Both much too young to die.   I so wanted to fix things even though I know that is not a Social Worker’s task.  

I now know she is in a better place.  Jake can now move on in his life and have the time to grieve both of them.

I WAS GRIEVING

 

I met she and her stepson

on a Friday, three days ago.

She was just admitted to the facility

a short time before we arrived.

 

She was so tired and weak;

her disease taking its strong toll.

Her stepson sat next to her

wanting to help her so much.

 

His strong caring nature

touched my heart so deeply.

His father had been her caregiver,

but he died suddenly one week ago.

 

I wanted to help both of them so much.

I wanted to fix things;

but was limited by so many facts.

I walked away feeling so down.

 

I couldn’t stop thinking about

both of them all weekend.

My heart felt heavy and sad.

They were dealing with so much.

 

Arriving to work today, I read on report that

she had died early this morning at five o’clock.

It was then that I was aware I had been grieving;

                        as I felt a strong sign of relief.

 

Their separation was only for ten days.

Her suffering is behind her; never to return.

She is spiritualty with the man she loves;

for always;

          for forever;

                    for eternity.

 

A HERO

The hospice nurse and I went out to admit, “Carla”, sixty-three, to hospice.   She was diagnosed with cancer just a few months ago.  She tried chemotherapy, which did not help much at all.  She has been in a recent decline to where she is so much weaker.  She is bedridden and not eating much at all.   She is sleeping much more during the day as well.  

We were notified ahead that we would also be meeting up with her stepson, “Johnnie”.  Walking into her room, we saw Carla lying down in her bed and Johnnie sitting in a nearby chair.  Johnnie was covered with tattoos and piercings.  That look, at times, can send off a “tough-guy” message, but he had me with “Hello”. 

He told us about his father’s sudden death and how now he is the only family available to help. He would try hard to talk with Carla so that she would understand, but she would doze off due to her weakness. In addition, she did not speak English and It took energy to try to decipher the conversation. 

I so respected Johnnie as a human being.  Despite the loss of his father, his first thought was her needs.  To me, he is a true hero. 

A HERO 

 

She was married to his father

for just a little over a year.

He, her stepson, didn’t really know her

as only met up with her three times.

 

Communication with her was a challenge

as she did not speak English at all.

Sadly, she was recently diagnosed with cancer;

and has declined a lot these past few months.

 

His father died suddenly one week ago.

He had been her support; her caregiver.

Now, he, the stepson, is the only family nearby

as her only daughter lives overseas.

 

She was hospitalized this past week

as she could no longer manage her daily needs.

He is mourning the loss of his father,

but still so focused on helping his step-mom.

 

He met us this afternoon at the Board & Care Home

where she moved today to get her necessary care.

She has no income at all; so fortunately,

her medical insurance is paying the rent.

 

Upon meeting her step-son, one might think he is tough.

He has a lot of tattoos and piercings,

but he has the biggest heart; the most caring soul.

In my eyes, he definitely is

                                 “A true hero!”

 

WHAT IS

Seven days ago, “Vickie”, sixty-five, was diagnosed with cancer that has already metastasized to her brain.  Vickie has been healthy all of her life until now.  Her upbeat personality surprised me as this past week, she has dramatically declined.  Vickie came to America twenty-five years ago from a war-torn country.  She appreciates America so much more because of her knowing the hardship that can come from that type of living situation. 

Vickie has such a positive attitude about life.  Seeing the good in life, while not questioning why bad can also happen.  Vickie has a strong group of friends that surround her. She spoke so lovingly about that support. 

Being just seven days from diagnosis, most of us need a lot more time to come to terms with a terminal diagnosis.  Vickie is very realistic and spoke about options that are available in California; such as the End-of-Life Option Act.  When asking about her code status wishes, she strongly stated she wanted her disease to run its natural course. 

I am so amazed by her graciousness and natural acceptance of what is so recently happening.  She is surely, one of the most beautiful souls I have met.

WHAT IS 

 

“I’ve had a great life

surrounded by those who love me.

Traveling; singing; playing my cello;

while always having good health.”

 

She is in her mid-sixties;

with a positive and appreciative personality.

One week ago, though, she was told,

“It is cancer that has now spread”.

 

Her world has since dramatically changed.

She has had a sudden, rapid decline.

She has increased pain “everywhere”.

Due to weakness, she spends more time in bed.

 

She is now losing weight

as can no longer eat due to nausea. 

She is becoming more dependent,

but in spite of it all, she remains happy.

 

When asked if she had any fears; any concerns,

she genuinely stated, “It’s what is”.

She stays calm without questioning, “Why?”

“Life is on its own projected course”.

 

She strongly embraces her life;

valuing all that she has received.

Just meeting her, I am not surprised at all

of her natural ability to totally accept

                          What is.

 

WHAT SHE WANTS

The hospice nurse and I went out to admit “Vicki” to our hospice program.   Reading her medical records, she did qualify for our program.  Vicki has been drinking for decades which has so strongly impacted her health.   She has been in a recent decline and was hoping to come onto hospice for one month to build her strength, her appetite, her cognition, to help her “get better”. 

We explained hospice philosophy of comfort care and qualify of life.  Understandably, she was not in a place to go that route. She appeared so frail due to extreme weakness.  She was so thin and had trouble walking due to swelling in her feet.  She did qualify for hospice, but she so strongly was hoping we could give her more independent days. 

Denial and acceptance are both a big part of the grieving process.  She flipped back and forth between them.  My heart went out to her, as I so wished we could have given her what she so powerfully needed.  I wish her peace.       

WHAT SHE WANTS 

 

She is only forty-two years old.

She has been drinking since she was a teen.

Her health has been impacted so deeply

with fluid retention and now Liver Disease.

 

Her doctor warned her about her drinking.

“If you don’t stop, you will die”.

She next stayed sober for fifteen months.

But then, three months ago, she didn’t.

 

She is now so wobbly on her feet

due to increased weakness.

She gets short of breath with any exertion.

Her appetite is so very “up and down”.

 

She wanted to go onto hospice for just one month;

for strength; for weight gain; for stronger cognition.

She has been on a liver transplant list,

but may not qualify due to her recent decline.

 

She has so many moments wanting back her normal,

but then, reality and truth are hard to avoid.

Wanting a liver transplant and hospice don’t mix.

Tearfully, she stated, “I just cannot live this way”.

 

She was hoping that hospice would visit her daily;

checking vital signs, taking blood work.

We are comfort care and quality of life.

Two major offerings and support;

but, for now,

                    not what she wants.

               

CAREGIVERS

I have been a medical social worker my entire career.  During all of those years, I have always had the pleasure of working with caregivers and home health aides.  I see such love and respect from those working in that field.  It is a calling for most all of them.  

The hospice nurse and I went out to admit, “Lois”, to hospice.  She was diagnosed only one month ago with metastatic cancer.  Lois lives with her daughter, “Marilyn”, who has hired 24 hours caregiving support as she is seeing a weekly decline with her mother.   

Lois had worked for years as a caregiver in a nearby Skilled Nursing Facility.  The nurse and I spent some alone time with Marilyn while explaining our program and discussing Mom’s health issues.  When we walked into meet Lois, she was sitting in a recliner in her bedroom.  She was so welcoming and thankful for our presence.  She amazed me as she spoke her truth about her grief of losing her independence, but then would turn around and smile so gently at us.    

The family has suffered several recent losses.  One of Lois’s daughters died ten months ago from cancer.  Then just four months ago, her grandson died suddenly from a seizure.  Marilyn appropriately cried when sharing these stories with us.

 I feel honored to have met Lois and her family.  They all are a beautiful example of spirituality and love.   Love truly does attract love.

CAREGIVERS

 

 

I have worked with caregivers

my entire thirty-plus years career.

All have been amazing; heartfelt souls.

That is why I always call them “Angels”.

 

One month ago, she was totally independent.

Now, wheelchair bound and so weak.

Her nutrition has become only sips and bites.

Family say they are seeing a weekly decline.

 

She had worked as a caregiver in a local nursing home.

She drew such pleasure while helping others.

Now she has 24/7 hired caregivers to help her

as is no longer safe being alone.

 

She has such a loving, genuine heart;

appreciating the help, but grieving it as well.

‘I want to be able to run again; to walk once more;

but I know those days are forever gone.”

 

One new caregiver filled in for an eight-hour shift.

When paying her for her time, she softly said,

“I can’t take your money.

God sent me here to care for your mom”.

 

I am surprised, but then I am not.

Like truly attracts like.

Her loving soul beckons the same.

That is why all are tenderly called

                         “Angels.”

 

TEN YEARS AGO

Ten years ago, Wednesday, October 30, 2013, I was in the Emergency Room secondary to a ruptured appendix.  My blood pressure was way below normal at 80/55.  I was septic and had no energy at all.  It was while I was in the Emergency Room that I crossed over.   It was such a normal experience.  I felt peace, total understanding and love.  There was a beautiful yellow arch of light that was pure spirit; or unconditional love. 

On this ten-year anniversary, I am feeling very somber and blessed.   It feels like it all just happened yesterday.  It was a very humbling, but gracious experience.  Amazingly, I did find out the answer to my question of “Why?”, when I returned to work three months later.  I met a patient who shared with me, “I know I am dying and am not afraid, but what is Heaven all about?”  It was then when I shared my story for the first time.  After hearing about my visit to the other side, she replied, “Thank you so much.  I am no longer afraid”.  She died four days later.  When I heard about her death, my first thought was, “If she is the only reason that I experienced what I did, then it was well worth it”.

I so deeply thank her every day for her gift back to me.  Now and then, I continue to share my story with patients when I am guided from above to do so.  All I can simply say is “Thank you!”

TEN YEARS AGO 

 

It was ten years ago today

that I crossed over to the other side.

The time away, oh so short;

has impacted me tremendously.

 

I also knew the answers of the universe.

Life is not really that complicated.

I knew it wasn’t my time.

I said, “I’m not ready; I’m going back.”

 

So many questions arose from within me then;

“Why me; what is it all about?

What is the purpose; the meaning?

What do I do with it; if anything?”

 

For ten years, now and then,

I have shared my story with hospice patients.

I will always hear back similar responses;

“Thank you so much. I feel so much better now”.

 

I received an amazing, sacred gift that day;

in order to share with others.

Not complicated at all, but truly simple.

Little things often are, oh so profound.

 

It was so humbling; but such an honor.

I will continue to share now and then,

when guided and directed from above;

about a place I did visit for a brief moment

                         just ten years ago; today.                         

 

LIFT ME UP

Spirituality surrounds me often, as I have very strong spiritual beliefs.  As a Social Worker, I am amazingly supported by my beliefs. I have strong beliefs about afterlife knowing so deeply inside that those who have died before me, are still nearby.  I communicate to them often for guidance while also thanking them for always being there to support me.  

I also feel that those family and friends here with me still on Earth, also support me in an amazingly tremendous way.  It is all of them whom I reach out to for support.  I am so raised up by all of them.  I am never alone in this life. I feel the work that I do here, is so enhanced by the support of so many.  I could never do this work totally alone. 

When the hospice nurse and I walked into the patient’s home, she was sitting on her couch.  The nurse, her daughter and I were sitting nearby in kitchen chairs facing her.  She started to cry while talking about her son who died of alcohol abuse about 18 months ago.  She blamed herself for his addiction.  I quietly moved my chair closer to her, while leaning in to heartfully listen to her.  It was then that I let go and trusted that those in my aura will guide me.  I have never been let down.  They all so raise me up more than I ever could do on my own.  True love are those who unconditionally love you and want what’s best to come your way.  I am so blessed and thank all of my people each and every day. 

LIFT ME UP 

 

Spirituality is a strong support for me.

Upon meeting a patient or family,

I emotionally let go and so frequently am guided

to say the perfect words; to be in the moment.

 

I connect to those on the other side.

Those whom I have loved and sadly lost.

I am also tremendously supported by those still here.

It is all who so deeply lift me up. 

 

She’s been in a recent, rapid decline.

Her lung disease is now winning over her.

She gets short of breath with any activity

She has told her family, “I am done”.

 

She has been depressed a little over a year as

her eldest son died from alcohol abuse.

She states, “I wish I could do things over”,

while blaming herself for his addiction.

 

I pulled my chair over to where she was sitting.

I let go to allow my spiritual words to simply flow.

I counseled on grief and loss while

listening to all she had to say.

 

Later, as I was leaving, her daughter said to me,

“My mother needed your support.

You gave her exactly what she needed.

You were meant to be here.

                         Thank you.”

 

114 MILES

I am the Admission Social Worker at my hospice.  I, so then, begin my day in the office in order to pick up the nurses and my paperwork to bring with me to do the admission.  Every three months we have a staff meeting on a Wednesday that starts at 8:30am.  Last night before I left the office, the Admitting Clerk gave me an admission packet as there was a 10AM admission 27 miles away.  Our staff meeting is in a building about two miles away from our office.  My plan was to leave before the meeting ended to meet up with the patient and family. 

Due to multiple mix-ups, I put on multiple miles today.  Our Admitting Department is a wonderful group of folks who make my job so easy.  They hand me the packet and then will tell me when and where there is an admission and I go.  So simple.   It was hard driving so many miles, but then I look at the humor; as that is the best way I know how to cope.

114 MILES

 

Before I left work yesterday, I was notified

“You have a 10AM admission in the morning”.

I was given the admission packet at that time

in order to leave before tomorrow’s staff meeting ended.

 

I drove 27 miles to the mobile home park.

I then texted the nurse Lilian, “What’s your ETA?”

She replied back, “The admission was changed to 12:30pm.

                         I am still at the staff meeting”.

 

I drove back to the office and informed Lilian,

“The patient lives in a mobile home park.

There are parking spots nearby for us to use.

                         It is all very convenient.”

 

As I pulled into the parking spot for the second time,

Lilian texted me, “It’s not a mobile home, but a house.”

I had the patient’s old address on my face sheet.

She moved three years ago and now lives 8 miles away.

 

Arriving twenty minutes late, I walked into the home.

Lilian had already assessed the patient.

In addition, she had spoken with our Medical Director.

“The patient does not meet hospice criteria.”

 

I have driven 114 miles today.

So much more than my typical day.

But then, I also realize I’ve had a great day as

no one is terminal and on hospice in my home.

 

HOW WE COPE

We are all individuals and cope so uniquely when facing a difficult situation.  I believe our search for what gives us comfort begins at childhood.  Life does throw a curve ball now and then to all of us.  How we cope is so individual; so unique.  

It is a blessing to find what works and to be able to utilize that support as needed.  When this patient’s husband told me that he was still doing what he loved, it gave me hope that it can be an option for any of us who so choose what helps them enjoy their life.  My work so gives me peace and comfort.  Each day, I receive a thousand-fold of what I give.  It doesn’t get any better than that.  I am so blessed.

HOW WE COPE 

 

Finding how to cope, begins with childhood.

When experiencing a difficult time,

we all look for ways to find comfort;

to find resolution; to find some relief.

 

As a hospice social worker,

I meet so many who are grieving.

A large part of my role and support

is to counsel on grief and the emotions of loss.

 

I will ask, “What helps you cope?”

I often hear some customary answers

such as “I exercise; I pray;

                    I talk to my best girlfriend.”

 

She and her husband are 91 years old.

She was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s years ago.

She is now in a steep decline;

not knowing family; forgetting how to eat.

 

When I spoke with him about her downturn;

his first words were “I am so sad.

We will be married 70 years next month.

It was to be a special day to celebrate”.

 

When I asked him about how he copes,

his answer surprised me and gave me hope.

“I am a plumber and am still working.

It gives me joy; it gives me comfort”.

 

I can so relate to what he told me.

I too, am still doing a job that I totally enjoy.

Even though I am the oldest one at hospice,

I am doing what I so truly love.

And yes, it gives me joy; it gives me comfort.

 

THERE IS NO ANSWER

Quite often, when doing hospice work, we get asked questions about how much time does the patient have.  We have no answer as it is such a unique moment for us all.  During my hospice experience, I hear so many amazing stories about the timing of a person’s death.  I truly believe we all know when it is the time to let go; as families so frequently share these fascinating stories. 

I met “Matt” about one week ago.  I also met “Gene” three days ago.  Both men were active and engaging.  Yes, they needed help with many of their activities of daily living, but had personalities so full of life.   Both did not fear death based on their spiritual beliefs.  If they did, by chance, ask me about how much time they had left, I would have said, “There is truly no answer.  You will let go when the time is right for you.”

I cannot prove my beliefs, but no one can disprove it either.  We all believe what is right for us to believe.  One’s spiritual beliefs gives them comfort, whatever that belief may be.  I so very strongly believe that both of these men left at the perfect time for them to do so.   That thought, too, gives me much comfort.

THERE IS NO ANSWER 

 

We often get asked by patients,

“When will it be my time to go?”

Or, from families wanting to know,

“How much longer does he have?”

 

They are wanting an exact time or date,

but there is no precise answer anyone can give.

They want to be prepared; to be ready.

Quite often, we are just as surprised as they are.

 

I met him about one week ago.

He has outlived his doctor’s expectations.

His wisdom amazed and touched my heart.

He was sitting up in his recliner, full of life.

 

He too, was full of life and joy.

He was independent one week ago.

Now he is definitely much weaker,

but still embracing life and so engaging.

 

I met both of these men this past week.

If asked, I would guess many weeks left for sure.

I was so surprised this morning to hear,

both have died over the weekend.

 

I so believe, both let go at their exact time to do so.

They spiritually were guided to know when to leave.

I feel that their work here on Earth was likely complete.

Then again, there truly is

                                   no answer.

 

PARALLEL UNIVERSE

This morning, the hospice nurse and I went out to do a hospice admission with “Edward”.  One week ago, Edward was totally independent and living his life to the fullest.  It was then that all changed where he became  weak and unable to function.  He spent a few days in the hospital learning that it was his Lung Cancer’s progression. 

After meeting Edward and his family, I went back to the office to document my admission.  It was so coincidental, as the moment I finished my paperwork, I received a text that there was another admission in one hour. 

It was during that second admission, that I started to see the similarities between these two amazing men.  The best part of all was their humor.  Both had me laughing from their dry wit.  I so admire and respect both of them for their truth and their insight.

PARALLEL UNIVERSE

 

I met these two special men today

while admitting both to hospice.

They were each distinct and individual

while living in a parallel universe.

 

Residing less than two miles apart from each other;

one was ninety-five; the other ninety-eight.

Both were diagnosed, several months ago,

with lung cancer that has spread to their brain.

 

The both tried chemo with gruesome side-affects.

Each agreed to no more treatment as one said,

“It is what it is.  I’ve had a good life;”

while the other, “I am ready to go”.

 

They each have suffered multiple losses in their life.

Both are widowed and married a second time.

One has lost both of his children;

                     while the other has lost one.

 

One has a strong Baptist faith, stating

“I have accepted Christ in my life”.

The other has done research and is spiritually guided.

“Something will happen, I have read about it.”

 

Both strongly appreciate their family and friends,

using humor that so easily helps them cope.

I believe each will know when it is time to let go,

but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was

                         just a few days apart.

 

COMPLETE LOVE

We went out today to admit “Sandy”, to our Hospice program.  Sandy is married to her husband, “Bill” for over forty years.  It was immediately so clear at how much he loves his wife.  His kindness and softness toward her is so beautiful.  

The couple has two sons, who both live on the East Coast and not available to help.  The couple are isolated as Bill’s whole focus is solely caring for Sandy.  Sandy was very thin as has a poor appetite.   She is forgetting how to swallow and will pocket food.  She has lost over twelve pounds this past month.  

Bill spoke of feeling overwhelmed and anxious due to caregiver demands.  He puts Sandy’s needs first, while neglecting his own.  He does have a caregiver that comes twice a week for two hours.  It allows Bill to run errands as needed. 

Hospice has a volunteer available to visit four hours each week to give Bill some respite.  I referred him to a local agency that receives grants in order to donate caregiver hours to families.  Hopefully Bill will receive his much-needed additional support as he so strongly needs our help as much as Sandy does. 

COMPLETE LOVE 

 

She is only sixty-four years old,

but looks fifteen years older.

All because of being diagnosed

two years ago, with Alzheimer’s Disease.

 

The two of them met in college years ago;

while each were pursuing a nursing degree.

They have so much in common

as have been happily married over forty years.

 

The moment we walked into their living room,

I immediately noticed how gentle; how kind; how beautiful

he was while quietly sitting by her side.

His voice was soft and smooth while comforting her.

 

She no longer can carry on any conversation

as her speech is garbled while she mumbles. 

He easily helps her up from the chair to walk a bit

as doesn’t want her muscles to become weak.

 

He is totally focused on her immediate needs,

while not taking care of himself much at all.

There is no family or friends available to help

which makes him feel overwhelmed and anxious.

 

He is so beautifully caring for her,

while neglecting his own stressful needs.

He needs our help more than she;

all because of his pure love; his complete love.

                    The most beautiful gift of all.

 

THE ORCHARD

A new Social Worker was shadowing me today to learn how to do a hospice admission.  The patient and family lived on a 50-acre ranch about four miles out of town.  The patient’s daughter gave us instructions on how to locate their ranch as GPS’s often direct drivers wrong. 

We found the County Roads 24 and 25 as they directed.  The ranch is on County Road 95.  We realized later that my GPS brought us to County Road 95A.  It instructed us to turn right by a gravel road.  We then turned right onto that road immediately into an orchard.  There was a dirt pathway that had impressions of vehicle wheels, so we followed the path. 

We drove about five minutes as it was a huge orchard.  At one point it looked like we could not go much further, but the road allowed us to turn right.  We were then parallel with a paved county road.    Fortunately, we were able to follow the route to an exit.  We then turned left onto the correct route of County Road 95.  There was another gravel road which our GPS then again told us to turn onto.  It was correct this time.  We drove this gravel and then dirt road a few minutes and did find their ranch.  My first thought was; while laughing; “If I ever think I have seen or done it all, I will likely be wrong every time.

THE ORCHARD 

 

We were scheduled to admit her today.

She is eighty-one and confused from dementia.

She and her family live out in the country

about four miles or so out of town.

 

They gave us step-by step instructions

on how to easily locate their ranch.

They didn’t want us to get lost

as a GPS does guide folks incorrectly at times.

 

“Drive halfway between

County Road 24 and 25.

Turn onto the gravel road by the orchard.

Our home is not visible from the road.”

 

We found the County Roads

while also finding a gravel pathway.

We turned into the orchard

driving onto soft, fertile soil.

 

The road was yielding with many potholes;

many dips and frequent downturns.

We realized, we were in an orchard

and not a route for automobiles.

 

I sometimes think I have heard it all.

I occasionally think I have seen it all,

but after driving into someone’s orchard,

I strongly know that I have not done it all.

                   And likely never will.

 

A SMILE

Our agency, along with hospice, also has a Palliative Care Program.   I mostly do hospice admissions, but do help out with Palliative Care admissions as well.  Weakness is not a stranger to many of our patients.  All of us use energy in our daily routines.   We don’t think much about it as we have enough to get us through each day comfortably.  

With these two Palliative Care patients, their weakness impacted their speech as neither had enough energy to say more than a few words at a time.  Body language is so powerful.  It has its own expressive way to communicate.  I saw these two patients only days apart.  Each touched my heart so deeply by their beautiful smiles.  No words were needed to be spoken.  I gave each of them a smile back; which was my way of expressing my appreciation back to both of them.

A SMILE

 She was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s

only a few years back; at age seventy-two.

Currently, she is wheelchair bound due to weakness;

needing help with all of her needs.

 

Conversation is difficult for her

as she speaks only one or two words at a time.

I spoke with her about her loving son.

Her amazing response back was beautiful;

                    one huge, magnificent smile.

 

Five weeks ago, he was told

“It is cancer that has spread to your brain”.

He has undergone five radiation treatments

with chemotherapy now next in line.

 

He was totally independent before this started.

Now, his weakness keeps him in bed

as sitting up in a wheelchair is too demanding.

He, too, is now only speaking a few words.

 

We were talking about his large, extended family

and how his wife spoils their eight grandchildren.

As we were leaving, I turned to him and said,

“I bet you spoil your grandchildren too.”

 

No words were needed

as he replied so expressively

with one beautiful, heartfelt

                  smile.