SIX DEGREES OF SEPARATION

I met, “Eva”, three days ago when we admitted her daughter, “Brenda”,  to our hospice program. When I walked into the family room, Eva introduced herself as the patient’s mother.  She was so realistic regarding her daughter’s poor prognosis.  Eva then shared her terrific support of family, friends and her church community. 

In addition, her family is rallying and all helping with caring for, “Brenda”.   I went back to the home today as the family needed some supplies.  Eva was out on her porch and we spoke there.  She is about fifteen years older than I am, but we so easily connected.  She spoke again about her pain and grief, but then turned the subject to her childhood and younger years.  She spoke of having such a happy life, but then what amazed both of us were the coincidences that arose.  

I wish Eva and her family the best.  They all support Brenda as well as each other.  It won’t be easy, but the support they all give and receive from each other is the best medicine of all.

SIX DEGREES OF SEPARATION 

 

She is a generation older than I am,

but our connection happened so quickly.

The moment I walked into her home the other day,

she totally embraced me with her heart.

 

Her daughter is suffering from cancer.

She has been ill for over five years.

She spoke of the pain of losing a child,

but I know that her family, her friends, her faith

                   will help her pull through

.

We met again today; on her front porch.

I was bringing some needed supplies.

She shared her pain; her grief; her sadness;

then spoke about some lighter times;

                   her childhood; her younger years.

 

She grew up in Redwood City,

but then, so did I.

We attended the same high school,

although I was a generation behind.

 

She then moved to San Jose;

coincidently as did I.

Her husband attended San Jose State.

                    Years later, so did I.

 

We were surprised our paths hadn’t crossed sooner,

as six degrees of separation seems so strong.

But then, they are extended family of my co-worker;

which helped us reserve part of the degrees

as we didn’t require all of the six,

but happily, needed

                    only just four.

                    

SAME PAGE

“Lily”, eighty-one years old, was diagnosed many years ago with lung disease.  All has changed these past few months as Lily has had many hospitalizations due to shortness of breath and weakness.  Lily has recently had a major decline whereby she needs help with her daily activities.  Family has hired a live-in caregiver to help Lily with her needs. 

Lily was again hospitalized this past week.  Treatment was no longer effective.  Lily told her doctor that she wanted to go home on comfort care; on hospice.  Lily worked in the medical field and is aware of her status and prognosis.  She has totally accepted her fate.  She is so weak which makes it difficult to continue to fight.  Meeting up with Lily, I heard her acceptance about it all as well as the drain on her.  She openly said she is ready to go. 

Lily has one daughter, “Jennie”, who lives nearby.  Jennie has the opposite personality of her mother as is not quiet at all about her emotions, needs and grief.  She is struggling with her grief, which is so appropriate.  She has such a strong sense that her mom is feeling the same as she.  Jennie wants to fix things that can no longer be fixed.  During the visit, I validated and normalized Lily’s emotions and grief while also counseling Jennie on her grief. 

Grief is so powerful and strong.  Intellectually we all know the truth, but grief can overwhelm any of us due to its immense strength.  I wish Lily and Jennie the best.

SAME PAGE 

 

Mom has suffered with lung disease;

for, oh, so many years.

She has had multiple hospital trips recently,

leaving her weak and so short of breath.

 

Mom is very calm and low key

while quietly expressing her thoughts.

Her daughter, on the other hand,

strongly expresses her distress; her own worries.

 

When asked about having any fears or concerns,

Mom slowly shook her head and quietly said, “No”.

“I am ready for it to be over.

                    I want it to happen”.

 

That brought up such profound sadness to the daughter.

She wants to repair things; to make it go away.

She wants Mom to have peace; to have comfort.

She can’t face Mom’s likely decline.

 

She thinks they are on the same page;

but her emotions and fears are within her; not Mom.

She wants to fix things as much for herself as well as Mom.

She is appropriately grieving a future life without Mom.

 

They are so clearly not on the same page of readiness;

because as I was leaving, I quietly asked Mom two questions;

“What can we do for you?

                    Is there anything you need?”

 

Mom quietly spoke from the depths of her soul;

answering so clearly while expressing her truth;

“Keep doing what you are doing”.

 She is so obviously on her right page.

HE

The hospice nurse and I admitted “Theresa” to hospice this afternoon.  Theresa was diagnosed with cancer just one month ago.  She has chosen no treatment as is aware of possible side- affects that do happen.  Theresa is widowed and has no children.   She shared that her last family member died about three years ago. 

Theresa has lived in the same town for most of her life.  She has many supportive friends who live nearby. To her, realistically, they are her family.  She has such a positive attitude about life. She has always accepted whatever comes her way.  Her strong Christian faith helps her cope.  She knows that “He” is always nearby.  She is such a role model for all of us.

HE

 

She is totally independent;

well able to care for her needs.

She was recently diagnosed with cancer.

She has chosen no treatment at all.

 

She is widowed and has no children.

Her last family member died a while back.

She has many local, supportive friends.

They are definitely her family to her.

 

She has a very positive attitude about life.

She easily receives what comes her way

as has totally accepted her cancer diagnosis.

It is her strong Christian faith that helps her cope.

 

When asking her about any fears or concerns,

she will immediately point her finger toward the sky;

while strongly stating her powerful belief,

                    “He does look out for me”.

 

She is ninety-six years old, but so very young.

She has embraced her life each and every day.

She knows she will be okay no matter what.

                    “He will always take care of me”.

 

SHE KNOWS

“Betsy”, aged twenty-three, was diagnosed with cancer when she was a teenager.  Betsy lived with her parents and one sister.  Betsy was starving for love as it was very limited from her parents.   Betsy then, so wonderfully, moved into a friend’s home.  It was there where she received the gifts that we all need to thrive in this life; unconditional love and support. 

Betsy is truly a survivor.  Walking into her home today, one could feel the strong love and bonding between the family and Betsy.  Betsy’s cancer returned just two months ago.   She has been physically struggling as the chemotherapy is no longer working.  Betsy was discharged home from the hospital today.  She is realistic regarding her poor prognosis.   Betsy has such strong awareness of what her life’s journeys options are; while handling things so realistically.  You are an angel, Betsy. 

SHE KNOWS 

 

She had a troubled childhood.

Her parents did not show much love.

Diagnosed with cancer at age fifteen;

her mother then kicked her out.

 

Her friend’s parents immediately invited her in.

They welcomed her unconditionally.

It was where she found pure love and support.

                    She knew just where to go.

 

She finished high school and found work;

living her life the best that she could.

Embraced by all that allows one to thrive;

                    pure love and support.

 

Eight years later, her cancer now has returned.

She has been hospitalized for over a week as

the chemotherapy is no longer working.

“No more treatment.  I just want to go home.”

 

She so deeply knows what she needs.

She so strongly knows what she wants.

“I am no longer worried at all.

I want to swim with the whales.”

 

She knows.

She so deeply knows.

A SURVIVOR

The hospice nurse and I went out to admit “Art” to our hospice program.  He has been living in a nursing home for six months; after suffering a stroke.  The stroke has left him paralyzed.  Six months prior, both of his legs were amputated above the knee.  When we walked into his room, his eyes quietly tracked our entrance. Being non-verbal, I so wondered if he knew who we were and why we were there.  I hope he felt our caring hearts. 

His primary contact is his nephew, “Rob”.  Rob lives two hours away and seldom visits as told me, “I have car trouble.” Rob so wanted to support his uncle and follow his wishes, but he shared with me that his uncle never spoke about his children or any other family.  Rob was struggling a bit as wanted strongly to do what his uncle would want. 

Seeing Art lying so still and quiet in his hospital room, he looked so isolated and alone.  He never shifted positions as likely could not do so alone.  There was no television or radio nearby.  Art couldn’t read a book or even play games on a I-pad.  

It brought up so many questions for me.  What is it all about?  Why does he need to go through such a terrific experience.  There are no answers that did arise.  I hope our small gifts of caring and our heart helped him; even if it was just for a little bit.

A SURVIVOR

 

He has traveled a rocky road;

making unhealthy choices along the way.

Often times, one does good for a while,

but then; reality can hit terribly hard.

 

His health took a horrific downturn.

One year ago, he underwent bilateral

above-the-knee amputations

secondary to uncontrolled diabetes.

 

Six months ago, he suffered a stroke

leaving him paralyzed on his right side.

He now has a catheter and a feeding tube.

Powerful adversaries he cannot fight.

 

He just lies still in his hospital bed;

the middle spot in a room of three.

How does he cope with all of this?

I so wanted to ask him but,

he is non-verbal; unable to talk.

 

His eyes quietly tracked us

as we walked into his room.

Did he know why we were there?

Did he understand our support?

 

His days must be long

as he can only quietly lie there.

Why is this happening to him?

What is it all about?

 

There likely aren’t any answers,

but so hoped he felt we cared.

We all have our own personal journeys,

but, it appears, that he is unfortunately;  

                              just existing.