STRONG WILLED

“Betty”, ninety-five years old, was admitted to hospice secondary to lung disease.  Betty has been in excellent health her entire life until about six months ago when she started to slowly decline.  She experienced moments of being short of breath.  In addition, she became weaker which resulted into several falls.  Betty lives in an Assisted Living Facility which offers someone checking in on her every two hours.  Being strong willed, as stated by her daughter, “Brenda”, Betty doesn’t want staff checking in on her 

Betty has had a full and amazing life.  Being a dancer and opera singer, allowed her and her family to travel all over the world.  When her nine-year old son died in a car accident, Betty kept her control, by learning how to cope and how to live with such a major loss.  

When Betty faces any challenge in her life, she finds a way to cope with it her way.  She is very realistic about life and always looks deeply into each situation to see what direction she would need to take 

One can so feel the love between Betty and her daughter.  Brenda surely does have her mother’s DNA as she too, is realistic and looks at life events in a very practical way.  She, like Mom, wants to be prepared for what may be coming.  A beautiful family for sure.  I wish them well.

STRONG WILLED 

 

She’s lived ninety-five great years;

always direct with what she wants.

Doing things habitually her way;

with love and generosity in her heart.

 

She was an artist, a dancer, an opera singer.

She drove hard to get things right.

Her son’s death at age nine stopped her cold.

It was then, she learned how to truly let go.

 

Her spiritual beliefs strongly changed

after her son’s death in the car accident.

She was raised a strong Catholic, but now

“My church is in my heart.

                    God is with me all the day”.

 

Six months ago, she started to decline.

There were times she became so short of breath.

She started to use oxygen for the first time.

She is now sleeping more and eating less.

 

“My mother has always been strong willed.

She wants to be right up front and in charge.

She now strongly states, ‘It’s my time.

I’m ready to go to the other side of the mountain.’

 

She is learning to let go; to follow her path

as she spiritually knows her time is near.

She’s taken control by accepting it all.

She is so ready to gracefully;

                    to intuitively; fly away.

SARCASM

The hospice nurse and I visited “Barbara”, an 84 year old, who suffers from lung cancer.  Barbara is widowed and has three daughters.  One daughter, “Diana”, lives with her and is the primary caregiver.  The two other daughters, “Jackie” and “Samantha” live nearby.  The three daughters all share caregiving support so that Barbara is never left alone. 

The minute we walked in, Barbara had me laughing.  She would say these funny, outlandish statements with a straight face.  Her humor strongly hit my funny bone and I found myself laughing more than usual.  Barbara would then look at me and have a great big smile because she made me laugh. 

More folks than not use humor to cope.  It is a wonderful strategy that takes the edge off the seriousness of situations.  When out conversation turned a bit more serious, I saw deep love inside of Barbara.  Her father died forty years ago.  She misses him every day.  She denied any fears about dying, strongly believing she will be with her father again.  

There was a part of her that reminded me of me.  I, too, have a very positive sarcastic humor.  I learned that from my father.  Sarcastic humor is outrageous humor that whom you are teasing knows that you are joking.  It is never ones attempt to hurt someone.  I, too, feel my dad’s presence frequently.  It is very comforting as I knew he is always nearby; as is Barbara’s father forever close to her side.

SARCASM

 

So many people that I meet,

use playful sarcasm to cope.

You tease someone on their strengths

in a tangled, twisted, inventive way.

 

She had me laughing from the start.

Her words were outrageous

and so not at all true.

                    Sarcasm at its best.

 

With each admission visit,

I have to ask certain questions.

“Are there any weapons in the home?”

At times, sarcastically adding, “Any AK-47s?”

 

She quickly pointed while disclosing,

“I have a machine gun under my couch!”

My sudden laughter had me saying,

“I should be professional here,

but that’s not going to happen.”

 

When asked if she has any fears or concerns,

she shared, “I’m either going up or going down”.

Then softly touching her heart, she gently said,

                    “My father is with me always.”

 

I, too, am very close to my dad.

He gave me two beautiful gifts

that I will always and forever cherish.

One being incredible, unconditional love,

along with hilarious, sarcastic humor.

 

Each and every day, I’m aware and deeply feel;

“For all that you have given me;

my dear loving and funny, Dad,

all I can simply say is,

                    Thank You!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SO POSITIVE

The hospice nurse and I met “Carrie” and “Ted”, to admit Carrie to hospice.  Carrie, fifty-four years old, was diagnosed with breast cancer a little over four years ago.  She underwent chemotherapy and radiation at that time and did quite well for several years.  She recently found out that her cancer has returned and has spread to her liver and bones.  She has chosen no more chemotherapy as the side effects are so difficult. 

Carrie and Ted have been married twenty-three years.  They have three sons, who are very supportive and involved.  Ted respects Carrie’s decision not to undergo any further treatment.  His focus is to totally support Carrie her way.  He became appropriately tearful several times during out visit.  I so admire and respect those who are not afraid to show their emotions.  Ted so naturally expressed his grief in a way that worked for him. 

Upon meeting Carrie, it quickly became clear at how positive she is about life.  She is real about the hardship her cancer is causing, but focuses on the positives about it all.  It was so clear at how difficult this is for both of them, but they always sought out the light; the positive.  They both used humor to cope and had us laughing along with them. 

Carrie so appreciated our support and, as we were leaving, tearfully thanked us.  But, it is I, who can never find the words to express my thanks in return.  Thank you doesn’t even come close, but it is the only words I know.  I feel so honored to have met Carrie and Ted.  I wish them well.

SO POSITIVE

 

She had just turned fifty years old

when her doctor informed her,

“It is breast cancer, but not to worry;

there is treatment available for you.”

 

She underwent chemotherapy and radiation.

She did well for several years,

but then, just months ago, she heard,

“The cancer has spread to your liver and bones”.

 

She chose no more chemotherapy

as the side effects were dismal.

She wants her quality of life,

even if it is only a few more months.

 

She is now on continuous oxygen.

She is becoming weaker with an unsteady gait.

She is eating so much less

                    and losing a lot of weight.

 

“The doctor made me happy

making this hospice referral.

Yes, I truly got gypped, but then,

I am putting it in God’s hands.

I have accepted all of this.”

 

Her husband appropriately became tearful,

but he, like her, was so positive.

“Life has a purpose.

One day, hopefully, we will all know”.

 

She so thanked us for coming,

but I hugged her and softly replied,

“You have given us so much more in return.

All I can say, so simply from my heart,

is a deep and profound;

                    Thank you.

 

I CAN'T

 

I met Jenelle over twenty years ago when she applied for a Social Work Position at the hospital where I worked.  I am 23 years older than her as she was 4 days old when I got married.  We immediately hit it off.  We are both so on the same page.   Our Social Work style is completely the same.  We think so much alike.  Jenelle and I are true soul mates. 

We live 90 miles away from each other.  Every few months or so, we meet halfway for lunch.  Jenelle called me last week to tell me about her father’s new diagnosis of Pancreatic Cancer.  Her father chose no treatment.  I shared with her that I would likely do the same thing if ever I had to face that.   Pancreatic Cancer is so deadly along with horrific side effects from the treatment.  Jenelle thanked me for sharing that with her.

 I was sitting in the hospice office charting when Jenelle called.  There were only a few people in the office at that time.  One of the nurses, Anastasia, was sitting nearby and agreed to talk with Jenelle about her questions regarding what physical changes would be expected.  Anastasia, the hospice nurse, is 26 years old going on 46 years.  She is wise beyond her years.  She was the perfect person to talk to my friend. 

What I can’t do so strongly surrounds me as I so wish I could take the diagnosis and pain away.  Intellectually I know I can’t, but emotionally, that is what I so want to do.  I also realize it is the little things that matter so strongly.  Jenelle reached out to me and so beautifully gave me the gift of doing a few little things that were needed.  I cannot ever thank her enough.  I so cherish our beautiful friendship. 

I CAN’T 

 

She just told me last week

about her father’s diagnosis.

It is metastatic pancreatic cancer.

He chose to have no further treatment.

 

My first emotion was total sadness.

But then, I wanted to fix it for her.

I wanted to say the right words.

I wanted to make it all go away.

                    But then, I know I can’t.

 

I told her I would probably do the same.

Pancreatic cancer is so deadly.

Treatment may give him a few more months,

but then the side effects can be dreadful.

 

She wanted to know what to expect.

What physical changes may likely occur.

I was able to have her talk to a hospice nurse;

who was sitting nearby during the call.

 

Yesterday, her father signed up for hospice

with an agency my hospice recommended.

She and her dad love them and feel amazing support.

They will be getting the help that he and his family needs.

 

She thanked me so beautifully for all that I have done.

I then thanked her for the gift of allowing me to give back.

I’ll be by her side for always as she is my dear friend.

And yes, that is something that,

                    I know I can.

 

LIKE FATHER

I first met “Cody”, twenty years old, six days ago when I visited the family to educate all of them about hospice and its philosophy and support.  His father, “Keith”, suffers from ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease) and was just diagnosed a few months ago.  Keith’s decline has been continuous, although much more dramatic this past week.  

Cody attends college down south.  He is staying with his parents and two sisters for the duration of his father’s illness.    Meeting Keith was amazing.  He is realistic regarding his disease and how it is impacting himself and his family.  Keith’s first focus was on his family and their needs.  

I felt such unconditional love in the home.  Keith’s wife, “Jennie”, was so very focused on her husband’s needs and how her children are coping; while putting her needs on the back burner. 

Today, the hospice nurse and I went out to admit Keith to hospice.  He is so weak and has stopped eating and drinking.  He has told his wife, “I am ready to go”.  A lot of extended family is visiting from out of state giving Keith, and each other, wonderful love and support. 

 There were about eight people in the home today.  One can so deeply feel the unconditional love.  I was able to spend about ten minutes with Cody counseling him on his grief.  It so melted my heart as he so wanted to hear all that I had to say.  He definitely has his mother’s love and his father’s wisdom.  

This family will definitely be sad for a while, but their love will help all of them move on with Keith’s legacy surrounding them forever more.

LIKE FATHER 

 

Just turning twenty a few months back;

he is tall and neatly groomed.

Polite, quiet-spoken and caring;

                    just like his father.

 

He is in his second year of college;

attending school down south.

He wants to become an architect;

                    just like his father.

 

Dad’s disease has hit him so very hard.

The diagnosis was only five months ago.

He is no longer eating or drinking.

“I know it is now only time.”

 

“I worry about my mother.

How can I ease my two sister’s pain?”

He wants to take care of all of them.

Is he instinctively now,

                    “The man of the house?

 

He will grieve the loss of his father quietly;

while making sure everyone else is doing okay.

He will head south to return to school knowing that,

“This is what my father would want.”

 

He’ll live his life his way while

continuing to look out for his family.

I know no one will be surprised at all

as this is who he truly is.

                    Like father, like son.