"Les", eighty, was diagnosed with stomach cancer several years ago. Les received many treatments of chemotherapy and radiation. Recently, his physician ordered several scans which revealed that Les's cancer is spreading. Les is slowly getting weaker, although still can manage all of his needs.
The hospice nurse and I went out to admit Les to our hospice program this morning. Les was so welcoming and immediately started to tell jokes, that he had us laughing moments after we walked through his front door. Les has such a positive attitude about life and so easily shared all his personal life stories.
Les does not worry about a thing. He knows that one day he may no longer be able to live alone. Les has been estranged from the majority of his family, although one cousin lives nearby. His cousin works full time and will not be able to help Les with his future daily needs. I spoke with Les about options for long term care. Les answered me with, "It is way too early to talk about those things."
Les lives in the moment and enjoys each moment he has. He doesn't worry about what tomorrow may bring him. Somehow I know from just meeting him today, that Les likely will be okay. He will embrace his life until the end, with no regrets.
NO REGRETS
He jokes and laughs so easily.
He sees life in such a positive way.
He loves to share his own life stories
with no regrets at all.
He divorced his wife thirty years ago.
He is estranged from all of his kids.
He started drinking vodka at age five.
Being matter of fact, he'll share all.
He'd like to live to one hundred twenty-five
knowing that is unrealistic for sure.
"When it is my time, I will go.
We all have to travel that road one time."
More than thirty years ago.
he had an out-of-body experience.
That encounter took away any fears
as they told him then, it wasn't his time.
He'll continue to drink his vodka.
He'll smoke his marijuana cigarettes to help him sleep.
He'll keep on telling jokes and laughing;
and he will continue to live his customary way
with no regrets at all.
Saturday, July 15, 2017
Saturday, July 8, 2017
HE'S NOT READY
As part of our hospice support, we meet with patients and their families to educate them about our hospice program and supports. Often, folks are not yet ready for hospice as have fears we hurry death along or we take charge over how things are managed.
We met up with “Sam”, who wanted to hear about our program because of his elderly mother who has been declining for such a long time. She is now totally dependent upon all of her needs. She is eating very little as is awake only a few hours each day.
Sam liked what we said about our program, but wanted to ask his mother what she thought about hospice support. He feared she would just give up on life as wasn’t ready to hear about hospice.
Several hours later, Sam gave me a call to schedule a hospice admission. He asked his mother what she thought about hospice being involved. He was so surprised and relieved by her response. I told him that he gave her the opportunity to talk about her true feelings. I believe that she was also likely relieved by his question.
In the end, I feel that most of us do best with the truth. It is typically a healthy practice as it allows us to process our own emotions and thoughts in a safe environment.
HE'S NOT READY
She's been bedridden for over two years.
She is weak and needs so much help.
She sleeps about twenty-two hours each day.
Her decline is slow, but continuing.
Her son wants to do what's right for her,
but doesn't know where to begin.
He wanted to know about hospice support,
but he's not ready to hear this may be her end.
We educated him about our hospice program.
He liked what we had said,
but he doesn't know how to tell her.
He fears she might give up.
He went out to talk with her.
He didn't know what to say,
but she awoke when he mentioned hospice.
"Would you like us to bring them in?"
He was amazed by what his mother said
as feared she would be upset.
Instead it was "Such a magical moment",
as felt instant relief by her response.
He didn’t believe she was prepared,
but she easily told him that she was,
by answering his question
in a few simple words.
“Yes.
I am ready.”
We met up with “Sam”, who wanted to hear about our program because of his elderly mother who has been declining for such a long time. She is now totally dependent upon all of her needs. She is eating very little as is awake only a few hours each day.
Sam liked what we said about our program, but wanted to ask his mother what she thought about hospice support. He feared she would just give up on life as wasn’t ready to hear about hospice.
Several hours later, Sam gave me a call to schedule a hospice admission. He asked his mother what she thought about hospice being involved. He was so surprised and relieved by her response. I told him that he gave her the opportunity to talk about her true feelings. I believe that she was also likely relieved by his question.
In the end, I feel that most of us do best with the truth. It is typically a healthy practice as it allows us to process our own emotions and thoughts in a safe environment.
HE'S NOT READY
She's been bedridden for over two years.
She is weak and needs so much help.
She sleeps about twenty-two hours each day.
Her decline is slow, but continuing.
Her son wants to do what's right for her,
but doesn't know where to begin.
He wanted to know about hospice support,
but he's not ready to hear this may be her end.
We educated him about our hospice program.
He liked what we had said,
but he doesn't know how to tell her.
He fears she might give up.
He went out to talk with her.
He didn't know what to say,
but she awoke when he mentioned hospice.
"Would you like us to bring them in?"
He was amazed by what his mother said
as feared she would be upset.
Instead it was "Such a magical moment",
as felt instant relief by her response.
He didn’t believe she was prepared,
but she easily told him that she was,
by answering his question
in a few simple words.
“Yes.
I am ready.”
Saturday, July 1, 2017
A SPECIAL GUY
"Matt", sixty-six, was admitted to hospice several weeks ago. Matt had colon cancer and was told there was nothing more to be done. Matt then moved in with his family in order to have someone to care for him as his needs increased. Due to the move, Matt connected with a new physician. His new physician informed Matt about new treatment options that were available.
Matt had a very low-key, calm personality. He thought about the treatment and was excited about giving it a try. Because he was pursuing curative treatment, we discharged Matt from hospice two weeks ago. It was then that I met Matt as I went out with the nurse to admit Matt to our Palliative Care Program.
Matt immediately impressed me with his huge heart and embracing personality. He had strong Eastern Spiritual beliefs and would remain calm no matter what came his way. Matt had a successful career and totally enjoyed his life. We sat with Matt in the backyard of his family's home. Matt was so full of life.
One week later, Matt ended up in the ICU due to the progression of his illness. It was then that his family chose to admit Matt to hospice for the second time. Yesterday I went out to meet with Matt and his family. I was shocked at how much he declined in such a short period of time. Matt was lying in bed and spoke only a few words. He easily fell back into a deep sleep. He was so weak, I knew he did not have much time.
I heard late this afternoon that Matt had died. My grief came on suddenly. I was happy for him that he is no longer suffering, but sad for his family and all those who knew him. It is such a huge loss for all. Matt has left an amazing legacy. I feel so blessed to have met him. Special times with such a special guy.
A SPECIAL GUY
There was something so special about him.
It wasn't just one particular thing.
How he embraced his life so fully.
Easily accepting whatever came his way.
He would think about all of his options.
Which one naturally would work the best.
Which would keep balance in his life.
Able to easily then, take another step.
He had a complete, full life,
but wasn't quite yet ready to let go.
His doctor wanted to try new treatments.
He, with hope, willing to give it a try.
One week later, admitted to the ICU.
Nothing more do be done.
Yesterday, home with hospice support.
Unresponsive, imminent, it was now his time.
He died peacefully late this afternoon.
I am happy for him as he suffers no more.
But I had chills, eyes full of tears.
I am grieving
such an amazing man.
Matt had a very low-key, calm personality. He thought about the treatment and was excited about giving it a try. Because he was pursuing curative treatment, we discharged Matt from hospice two weeks ago. It was then that I met Matt as I went out with the nurse to admit Matt to our Palliative Care Program.
Matt immediately impressed me with his huge heart and embracing personality. He had strong Eastern Spiritual beliefs and would remain calm no matter what came his way. Matt had a successful career and totally enjoyed his life. We sat with Matt in the backyard of his family's home. Matt was so full of life.
One week later, Matt ended up in the ICU due to the progression of his illness. It was then that his family chose to admit Matt to hospice for the second time. Yesterday I went out to meet with Matt and his family. I was shocked at how much he declined in such a short period of time. Matt was lying in bed and spoke only a few words. He easily fell back into a deep sleep. He was so weak, I knew he did not have much time.
I heard late this afternoon that Matt had died. My grief came on suddenly. I was happy for him that he is no longer suffering, but sad for his family and all those who knew him. It is such a huge loss for all. Matt has left an amazing legacy. I feel so blessed to have met him. Special times with such a special guy.
A SPECIAL GUY
There was something so special about him.
It wasn't just one particular thing.
How he embraced his life so fully.
Easily accepting whatever came his way.
He would think about all of his options.
Which one naturally would work the best.
Which would keep balance in his life.
Able to easily then, take another step.
He had a complete, full life,
but wasn't quite yet ready to let go.
His doctor wanted to try new treatments.
He, with hope, willing to give it a try.
One week later, admitted to the ICU.
Nothing more do be done.
Yesterday, home with hospice support.
Unresponsive, imminent, it was now his time.
He died peacefully late this afternoon.
I am happy for him as he suffers no more.
But I had chills, eyes full of tears.
I am grieving
such an amazing man.
Sunday, June 25, 2017
THEY KNOW
We admitted , "Ted", a twenty-four year old diagnosed with cancer. Ted had been doing quite well until a recent onset of tremendous pain. Ted moved in with family who were able to care for him. His pain became quite severe to where he had many clinic visits to help reduce his pain.
We met Ted’s family in the kitchen of their home. Ted did not participate as he was in a deep sleep. At the end of our visit, the hospice nurse examined Ted and felt he was imminent. He had moments when he did not breathe. This symptom often can occur at the end of one’s life.
At the beginning of our visit, the family was talking about curative treatment and wanting to call 911 so that Ted would not die. We spoke of our palliative care program thinking that they were not ready for hospice. The nurse and I listened to them and validated their feelings. We also directed the family on looking at Ted's wishes and how he perceived quality of life.
By the end of our visit, the family was on the hospice page. They knew he was dying and they started to look at the peaceful side of things. Their strong Christian faith helped them cope with knowing that Ted was going to a better place. It was amazing to see their transition from unrealistic hopes of curative options, to coming to terms with the reality of things. They were giving Ted a lot of love, compassion and care. The best medicine for him.
THEY KNOW
He was diagnosed two years ago.
Until recently, he was doing well.
His decline has now been swift.
Weakness, pain, no appetite.
They wanted him on hospice.
They knew that we could help.
They needed resources, reassurances
that he would be okay.
They spoke of clinical trials.
They didn't want to destroy any hope.
He has a full life ahead of him.
My gosh, so unfair; he is only twenty-four.
We spoke about comfort care.
We spoke about quality of life.
What would be his wishes?
What would he tell you to do?
"I gave him permission to go.
I said we’d be alright.
He's going to a better place.
Do we call hospice when he stops breathing?"
Yes, they know.
They all truly know.
We met Ted’s family in the kitchen of their home. Ted did not participate as he was in a deep sleep. At the end of our visit, the hospice nurse examined Ted and felt he was imminent. He had moments when he did not breathe. This symptom often can occur at the end of one’s life.
At the beginning of our visit, the family was talking about curative treatment and wanting to call 911 so that Ted would not die. We spoke of our palliative care program thinking that they were not ready for hospice. The nurse and I listened to them and validated their feelings. We also directed the family on looking at Ted's wishes and how he perceived quality of life.
By the end of our visit, the family was on the hospice page. They knew he was dying and they started to look at the peaceful side of things. Their strong Christian faith helped them cope with knowing that Ted was going to a better place. It was amazing to see their transition from unrealistic hopes of curative options, to coming to terms with the reality of things. They were giving Ted a lot of love, compassion and care. The best medicine for him.
THEY KNOW
He was diagnosed two years ago.
Until recently, he was doing well.
His decline has now been swift.
Weakness, pain, no appetite.
They wanted him on hospice.
They knew that we could help.
They needed resources, reassurances
that he would be okay.
They spoke of clinical trials.
They didn't want to destroy any hope.
He has a full life ahead of him.
My gosh, so unfair; he is only twenty-four.
We spoke about comfort care.
We spoke about quality of life.
What would be his wishes?
What would he tell you to do?
"I gave him permission to go.
I said we’d be alright.
He's going to a better place.
Do we call hospice when he stops breathing?"
Yes, they know.
They all truly know.
Saturday, June 17, 2017
SHE SPOKE
We admitted, "Elizabeth", to our hospice program today. Elizabeth suffers from ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease). She has been in a recent decline to where now she is wheelchair bound and dependent with all of her needs.
Elizabeth immediately welcomed the nurse and I into her home. She had this broad, beautiful smile while asking her hired caregiver to move two chairs over near her. Elizabeth spoke softly, but her words and heart were so amazing. She spoke of her family, friends and the support she receives in such an appreciative way.
Elizabeth was a Neo-natal physician and shared stories about her work experiences. She shared so much love with families in such stressful moments. She also shared a few stories about how it was, at times, a blessing to let a child go. Elizabeth's words were so powerful because of the immense love she had while sharing them.
One amazing coincidence presented itself during the hospice nurse's and my conversation with Elizabeth. The nurse said that she was two months premature and weighed three pounds at birth. Elizabeth then shared her thoughts and insight about premies. I was then able to add that I, too, was three months premature and also weighed three pounds at birth. Elizabeth was able to share that my weight came on earlier than typically expected. It made me think how fortunate I was as that may be the reason I was able to survive. My parents were told that there was a 25% chance of survival for me.
There are folks that we meet along our journey that cross our paths only once. I feel so blessed that I was able to meet Elizabeth. I sure do hope our paths cross again. She is such an inspiration.
SHE SPOKE
The moment you walk into her home
you feel her kindness; you feel her compassion.
She spoke so softly, so genuine.
Her heart permeated the room.
She spoke of her dependence.
Her disease and its impact on her life.
"I wish I were dead.
I wish I wasn't lucid."
She was a neo-natal physician by trade.
She spoke of newborns less than a pound.
How so many were saved to fulfill productive lives;
while others did not fare so well.
She still remembers her first one pound baby.
"His name is Ronald. He is thirty-five now.
He is living a full, healthy life.
He is someone I will never forget."
She thanked us for our kindness; our compassion,
but she is the one with an amazing, spiritual heart.
It was so beautiful; so obvious to all.
It became apparent immediately
because
She spoke.
Elizabeth immediately welcomed the nurse and I into her home. She had this broad, beautiful smile while asking her hired caregiver to move two chairs over near her. Elizabeth spoke softly, but her words and heart were so amazing. She spoke of her family, friends and the support she receives in such an appreciative way.
Elizabeth was a Neo-natal physician and shared stories about her work experiences. She shared so much love with families in such stressful moments. She also shared a few stories about how it was, at times, a blessing to let a child go. Elizabeth's words were so powerful because of the immense love she had while sharing them.
One amazing coincidence presented itself during the hospice nurse's and my conversation with Elizabeth. The nurse said that she was two months premature and weighed three pounds at birth. Elizabeth then shared her thoughts and insight about premies. I was then able to add that I, too, was three months premature and also weighed three pounds at birth. Elizabeth was able to share that my weight came on earlier than typically expected. It made me think how fortunate I was as that may be the reason I was able to survive. My parents were told that there was a 25% chance of survival for me.
There are folks that we meet along our journey that cross our paths only once. I feel so blessed that I was able to meet Elizabeth. I sure do hope our paths cross again. She is such an inspiration.
SHE SPOKE
The moment you walk into her home
you feel her kindness; you feel her compassion.
She spoke so softly, so genuine.
Her heart permeated the room.
She spoke of her dependence.
Her disease and its impact on her life.
"I wish I were dead.
I wish I wasn't lucid."
She was a neo-natal physician by trade.
She spoke of newborns less than a pound.
How so many were saved to fulfill productive lives;
while others did not fare so well.
She still remembers her first one pound baby.
"His name is Ronald. He is thirty-five now.
He is living a full, healthy life.
He is someone I will never forget."
She thanked us for our kindness; our compassion,
but she is the one with an amazing, spiritual heart.
It was so beautiful; so obvious to all.
It became apparent immediately
because
She spoke.
Saturday, June 10, 2017
WISE OLD SOUL
We admitted, "Cathy", to hospice today after a three year struggle with cancer. One's first impression of Cathy, is that she has had a rough life. She instantly smiles when she meets you, along with a wisecrack. She accepts life in such a positive, humorous way.
Cathy has recently declined to where she is much weaker. Cathy says she could use a walker as she is now wobbly on her feet. She is eating very little and sleeping a lot more during the day. She has totally accepted her terminal diagnosis and poor prognosis. She has strong Native American beliefs about life and lives those beliefs daily.
Her humor was off-the-wall hilarious. She had us all laughing when talking about her medication and recent decline. When I asked her if she had any fears or concerns, she stated that she wishes she would know that she would die in a few days. She does not like burdening her family with her slowly increasing needs.
What was so amazing and wonderful, is that Cathy lives her beliefs every day. She accepts where others are in their beliefs, but truly has such a strong spiritual insight. She has lived many more years than her age. She is an amazing soul.
ADDENDUM: Cathy got her wish, as five days later she died peacefully with her family by her bedside.
WISE OLD SOUL
She has no fear of dying.
"We all are going to do it".
Not sure of the other side,
"But it will be an adventure."
She embraces her life;
one moment at a time.
Accepting, loving, giving.
Her natural personality just shines.
She was a Corrections Officer by trade.
She comes across rough and tough.
She is straightforward and direct,
using sarcastic humor to lighten her load.
I was drawn to her instantly.
Amazed by her strong beliefs.
Spiritually living each day
knowing it may be her last.
She is a natural teacher about life.
Her mystical energy just flows.
She is the wisest of old souls,
at such a young age
of only
forty-five.
Cathy has recently declined to where she is much weaker. Cathy says she could use a walker as she is now wobbly on her feet. She is eating very little and sleeping a lot more during the day. She has totally accepted her terminal diagnosis and poor prognosis. She has strong Native American beliefs about life and lives those beliefs daily.
Her humor was off-the-wall hilarious. She had us all laughing when talking about her medication and recent decline. When I asked her if she had any fears or concerns, she stated that she wishes she would know that she would die in a few days. She does not like burdening her family with her slowly increasing needs.
What was so amazing and wonderful, is that Cathy lives her beliefs every day. She accepts where others are in their beliefs, but truly has such a strong spiritual insight. She has lived many more years than her age. She is an amazing soul.
ADDENDUM: Cathy got her wish, as five days later she died peacefully with her family by her bedside.
WISE OLD SOUL
She has no fear of dying.
"We all are going to do it".
Not sure of the other side,
"But it will be an adventure."
She embraces her life;
one moment at a time.
Accepting, loving, giving.
Her natural personality just shines.
She was a Corrections Officer by trade.
She comes across rough and tough.
She is straightforward and direct,
using sarcastic humor to lighten her load.
I was drawn to her instantly.
Amazed by her strong beliefs.
Spiritually living each day
knowing it may be her last.
She is a natural teacher about life.
Her mystical energy just flows.
She is the wisest of old souls,
at such a young age
of only
forty-five.
Saturday, June 3, 2017
WE WILL KNOW
I have been with so many hospice patients, who get to a certain point, that they are fully aware that they are done. They feel it on such an unemotional basis. It is like the next step for them. We admitted "Betsy", eighty-one, to hospice today after suffering a major stroke. She was discharged home today from the hospital.
Her daughter, "Judy", is her primary caretaker and wants to do what is best for mom. She and her mother have always been close. Mom can no longer talk, but does understand. Judy tries to ask her mom simple questions where her mother can nod her head yes or no.
Two weeks ago, when this first happened, Betsy did tell her daughter and her family what she wanted. One thing I know for sure, there is total love in this home. I told Betsy's daughter that she is doing things so perfectly for her mom as she is giving her love and she is accepting Mom's decision.
WE WILL KNOW
Somehow I truly believe
that we all can reach the point
where we say and truly know,
"I am done."
We all want independence.
We all want quality of life.
Each defined so individually.
It is such a personal choice.
She was fine two weeks ago.
She was fully living and enjoying life.
A major stroke after a sudden heart attack.
Her life so dramatically changed.
She is now bedridden; not eating at all.
She is blind; no longer can talk.
She will nod her head to questions asked.
She knows what is going on.
They all know what she wants.
They all know it is her time
as two weeks ago she told them all,
"I am finished.
I am done."
Her daughter, "Judy", is her primary caretaker and wants to do what is best for mom. She and her mother have always been close. Mom can no longer talk, but does understand. Judy tries to ask her mom simple questions where her mother can nod her head yes or no.
Two weeks ago, when this first happened, Betsy did tell her daughter and her family what she wanted. One thing I know for sure, there is total love in this home. I told Betsy's daughter that she is doing things so perfectly for her mom as she is giving her love and she is accepting Mom's decision.
WE WILL KNOW
Somehow I truly believe
that we all can reach the point
where we say and truly know,
"I am done."
We all want independence.
We all want quality of life.
Each defined so individually.
It is such a personal choice.
She was fine two weeks ago.
She was fully living and enjoying life.
A major stroke after a sudden heart attack.
Her life so dramatically changed.
She is now bedridden; not eating at all.
She is blind; no longer can talk.
She will nod her head to questions asked.
She knows what is going on.
They all know what she wants.
They all know it is her time
as two weeks ago she told them all,
"I am finished.
I am done."
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