AT PEACE

“Drew”, forty-two, suffers from Lou Gehrig’s Disease.  Drew lives with his wife, “Nancy” and their two young sons; aged thirteen and eight.  Drew is now totally dependent with all of his needs.  He is paralyzed from the neck down and can only move his head.  Drew is alert & oriented and has totally accepted his situation and poor prognosis. 

When I walked into his home, I went up a few steps into the family room.  Drew was sitting there with his brother, “John”, who was visiting from out of state.  Drew gave me the biggest, most beautiful smile as I walked into the room.  One could feel the sincerest love he was giving with his greeting.  

Drew spoke very slowly and softly.  He was a bit hard to understand at times due to his muffled words.   John would lovingly translate.  The two brother’s humor showed up pretty quickly.  They would lovingly tease each other in such a fun way. 

What amazed me the most was Drew’s full acceptance of his situation.  He had no fears or concerns about his dying process or afterlife.  He was such a beautiful man.  I felt pure peace with him.  

On my way out of the home, I stopped and spoke with Drew’s eight year old son, “Mickey”.  I asked Mickey what he understood about what was happening to his dad.  Mickey said, “I know he is really sick.”  I then asked Mickey, “What do you do to take care of you?”  Mickey then loving said, “I bring water and a blanket to my dad.”  Mickey was only five when his father became ill.  It may likely be he does not remember his dad being healthy.  Mickey, like his father, has accepted his father’s illness in a natural way. 

This is an amazing family.  I believe I touched heaven in a small way today.  Thank you, Drew.

AT PEACE

 

He was living his dream life.

Running a business fixing motorbikes.

Racing motorcycles just for sport.

Life had handed him the best that could be.

 

Three years ago, his life dramatically changed

with a diagnosis of Lou Gehrig’s Disease.

Now, paralyzed from the neck down.

Able only to pivot his head.

 

He was sitting there quietly in a recliner,

but his non-verbal greeting embraced the room.

I was immediately captured by his beautiful smile.

His heart and soul brilliantly shined.

 

His voice was soft and difficult to hear

as he spoke very slowly with muffled words.

He securely continued on a steady pace

                with an infinite patience.

 

He denied any fears about afterlife.

“Death is not the end.

It might be a dream

               It might be a real dream.”

 

I felt I was in a sacred environment.

His grace; his acceptance; his love.

Heaven has already deeply touched him

as he is at peace;

               at total peace.

 

SPIRITUAL BELIEFS

I meet so many amazing people in my work at Hospice.  What I love the most with doing the admissions, is I get to hear wonderful stories and life legacies.  Most of us probably don’t think we have a story, as we feel we are just living our lives.  But; definitely, we all do have a story. 

We admitted, “Danny”, eighty=four years old, today to hospice.  Danny suffers from a cancer and had just recently finished with treatment.  His doctor told him this morning, that the treatment is no longer working and the cancer is slowly growing.  Two weeks ago, Danny had been living alone and managing his daily needs without much effort.  He took a fall two weeks ago and since that time is struggling with walking and managing his needs. 

Danny’s daughter, “Tina”, has moved in to help him.  When Tina told her father that hospice was coming this afternoon, he first rejected that idea.  Tina is becoming exhausted and spoke with her father about hiring attendant care.  That too, Danny strongly said “No!” 

I think Danny likely has been thinking about his no longer independent life.  He has been widowed fifteen years and has been living alone for all those years.  He has always cherished his independence.  The moment we walked in and started to explain the hospice program, Danny was so receptive.  He was receptive to hiring attendant care and to no longer pursue any treatment.  

Danny liked the support we gave to him, but more so loved our support to his daughter.  We always tell patients and families that they are the ones driving the train.  We do not come in and make rules.  I strongly encouraged patients and families to keep us informed about their needs. 

As we left, Danny thanked us so much for being there to give the support that is so needed.  Danny sees life pretty simple.  It is not complicated to him at all.  That works so well for him.  I wish he and his daughter the best.

SPIRITUAL BELIEFS 

 

I ask many questions when admitting to hospice.

“How are you sleeping; coping; any concerns?”

But by far, my favorite question of all is;

               “What are your spiritual beliefs?”

 

I hear amazing and varied answers

that so clearly identify one’s sacred belief.

We can’t prove our faith to be true,

but then, no one can ever prove it to be wrong.

 

Our spiritual beliefs give us strength.

It gives us purpose, a possible understanding.

It gives us some sense of the hereafter;

something to hold tight onto.

 

He had been living alone and managing,

but two weeks ago; all has changed.

Due to weakness, he can only walk a few steps.

He’s fallen twice no longer able to be left alone.

 

He identifies life in a straightforward manner.

It is not complicated at all to him.

When I asked him if he had any fears;

his answer, somehow, didn’t surprise me at all.

 

“I have no fears at all about afterlife.

I have outlived my shelf life.

You are born, you go to seed

          and that’s it”. 

 

Nothing more; nothing less.

His powerful spiritual beliefs

give him comfort; give him peace.

How can anyone say

                          he is wrong?

 

TEAM WORK

 “Tony”, sixty-seven, was diagnosed with his cancer two years ago.  He underwent treatment to no avail.  His cancer continued to grow and spread.  Tony lived with his daughter, “Annie”, who was his primary caregiver.  Annie was devoted to her father.  She put her life on hold to lovingly care for him. 

Tony has been a fighter during the course of his illness, but recently he came to terms with his poor prognosis.  Two days ago, he told his daughter and family, “I am ready to go.”  Annie said that her father sharing his true emotions, gives her peace.  The family then expressed that they have been talking about hospice for several weeks, but Tony wasn’t yet ready for that.  

Tony has stopped eating and is drinking very little.  His family sadly knows he is imminent with death likely in hours to only a few days at most.  Tony’s two-month-old granddaughter will be visiting tonight.  He has not yet seen or met her.  Their flight lands in a few hours.  His family is hoping he will hold on until after she arrives with her parents; his son and daughter-in-law. 

There were many extended family members present in the home.  The family is truly rallying around Tony.  I spent a few moments with Tony’s Mother, “Angela”.  Angela amazed me with her strong faith.  When I asked her how she is coping with all of this, she beautifully stated, “I have told God I am handing my son over to him.  Tony’s work is done here on Earth.”  

One could feel the love upon entering the home.  So often family members worry about what they need to do.  They want to do things right.  I told this family, “The best gift of all is unconditional love and all of you are sharing that gift with Tony and each other.  It doesn’t get any better than that.”   It is such a honor to have witnessed their pure love.  Life is truly not that complicated.  Who is in your life is the most precious gift of all.  

ADDENDUM:  Tony died peacefully eighteen hours after our visit.  He was able to meet his new granddaughter before he let go.    

TEAM WORK

 

He’s been ill for many months.

He’s kept fighting, hoping to get better.

Yesterday all that changed,

“I want to stay home. I am ready.”

 

He has stopped eating any solid food;

although is drinking water and a little tea.

He is bedridden with “zero strength”.

Likely only now has a day or two.

 

His brand-new granddaughter is coming.

Their flight lands early tonight.

They are hoping he is strong enough

to meet her before he lets go.

 

We completed a POLST.

A legal document stating no resuscitation.   

Don’t call 911, call hospice.

He wants to die naturally in comfort at home.

 

It needed a doctor’s signature to complete.

Five minutes back into the office, I had her sign it.

The hospice nurse called another co-worker for help.

He took the POLST quickly back out;

displaying it clearly on their refrigerator.

 

Our night nurse will visit later this evening;

giving additional support to the grieving family.

Hospice is all about comfort care, heart, compassion.

But truly, what makes it shine the brightest is

          Team Work.

 

ONE WEEK

The hospice nurse and I went out to meet, “Cathy”, sixty-seven, and her husband, “Mitch”.  Fifteen years ago, Cathy took a fall at her work causing chronic back and neck pain.  Cathy has been struggling with this pain for years. 

Cathy has such a positive attitude about life.  She has accepted her terminal diagnosis completely.  In spite of being diagnosed just one week ago, she has already processed her emotions and is embracing the positive side of her illness and mortality.  

Her husband is fighting to keep her alive saying, “The doctor told us yesterday that she had only a few weeks.  I need her to be here longer than that.”   During the visit, e was struggling with the reality of it all causing tears to flow.   When I asked him what helps him cope when times get a little tough, he lovingly answered, “I hug Cathy.”  

Cathy has a strong Lutheran faith while Mitch spoke about loving nature.  He shared that “Sitting outside around nature helps me cope.”  Mitch then softly added, “I have my dog, my Benny”.  I have no doubt that Mitch will continue to struggle for a while.  Fortunately, our hospice bereavement department follows up for thirteen months with support groups, counseling and phone calls.  God bless both Cathy and Mitch.

ONE WEEK

 

They’ve been married over forty years.

Their love so strong between them.

They each have two children,

but it’s each other with whom they cling.

 

She hasn’t been feeling well for weeks;

becoming weaker as the days moved on.

Two months ago, she fell and broke her hip.

              Surgery, rehab, convalescent.

 

Her weakness continued on

resulting in many medical tests.

One week ago, they told her,

“It is an aggressive cancer;

with no treatment; no cure.”

 

He is struggling hard to process this.

“It is happening way too fast.

She’s not eating or drinking much at all.

She has to stand up and fight!”

 

She has a completely different coping skill.

“My Lutheran faith helps me believe.

I know I am dying.

When it is my time, I will go.”

 

“I look forward to hugging my loved ones

who are in Heaven watching over me.

Once I have crossed over and died,

I no longer will worry about all of this.”

 

She copes by facing her reality

in such a realistic and truthful way.

Her faith is amazingly that strong

as she has come to terms with her mortality

          in only one short week.

 

HER BELIEF

 “Irene”, seventy-three, was diagnosed with stomach cancer one month ago.  Her oncologist recommended she undergo chemotherapy.  Irene, who is strong in her commitments, strongly declined.  She was then referred to our hospice program. 

The moment you walk into Irene’s home, you feel such strong energy.  Irene lives with her adult granddaughter, “Laura”, who is her caregiver.  Irene currently is able to manage most of her own needs.  Irene and her granddaughter know that that will likely change before too long. 

Irene has totally accepted her situation with any fears or questions.  She was involved in a motor vehicle accident eight years ago and has had side pain since that time.  She understands how the pain does impact her life and would like the pain to be totally gone.  She sees death as a viable option that will erase her pain.  I spoke of hospice’s gift of comfort care.  I am not sure if she fully understood as living with her pain for so many years. 

It was when I asked her about her spirituality, she totally consumed that topic.  Her faith is such a strong, supportive force in her life.  It was beautiful to see what unconditional love she had for her family and her faith. 

I wish her the best.  I no doubt know that Irene will definitely do it her way.

HER BELIEF

 

She was diagnosed recently with cancer.

She has taken it all in stride saying,

“I have had a good, long life.

This is what it is all about.”

 

She has suffered so many losses along the way.

Three of her four siblings have already died.

She has lost a daughter, a grandson, her mother.

She again takes this in stride saying, “This is life.”

 

She has a very strong Christian faith,

which guides her completely throughout each day.

When asked what helps her cope,

she easily will state, “It’s all up to God.”

 

She has no fears or concerns at all.

“I can’t wait to again hug my daughter,

my ten-month old grandson, my mother.

               I am truly ready to die.”

 

She then tenderly pointed to her left shoulder,

quietly stating, “God sits right here.”

Then quickly pointing to her right shoulder,

while softly adding, “Jesus sits right here.”

 

Her strong faith so clearly guides her.

She receives and understands it her true way.

It is her genuine acceptance; her truth.

But mostly, it is her strong commitment to her

unconditional faith; her unconditional beliefs.

 

"HI JILL"

I met Jill two months ago when the nurse and I went out to admit her to our Palliative Care program.  Jill suffered from ovarian cancer.  Her medical journey was rocky as Jill wasn’t attentive to the prescribed medical plan.  Jill had a lifelong addiction to meth.  She had one daughter and one teenage grandson, who lived locally.  

Jill lived in a shelter as was homeless.  She had been living in a tent by the nearby river, but her health issues made that plan a bit difficult.  Jill had a lot of energy from a powerful personality.  Her emotions would swing from sadness to full joy, craziness and laughter.  She made me laugh so easily as her stories about her life were so “off the wall” and funny.  She loved to make others laugh.  The more I would laugh, the more she would go on with another crazy story.  She had such a vibrant personality. 

Due to Jill’s medical journey and decline, the hospice nurse and I went out last week to admit her to hospice.  Jill was a bit wobbly on her feet, but due to her energetic personality, it was hard to notice.  Jill was recently told by her physician that her disease was terminal.  Jill spoke of deep sadness hearing that from her doctor, but then would quickly change the subject to something, that again, would make me laugh.  Jill’s compassionate side showed up so beautifully when we shared that hospice will be around for 13 months after her death giving bereavement support for her daughter and grandson. 

Jill’s death came quickly.  She suddenly collapsed one day, while walking through the hallway at the shelter.  She likely was dead before she hit the floor as she bled out.  I was so shocked when I heard the news three days ago.  Since her abrupt death, she has so strongly been on my mind.   These past few days, I find myself having silent talks with Jill letting her know how much she touched all whom she met in her life.  I want to make sure she knows her life was perfect for her.  I will never forget her and, so remarkably, her beautiful soul.

"HI JILL"

 

I have only met you twice;

two months ago, and then again, last week.

With both visits, you touched my soul so deeply.

You so naturally embraced my heart.

 

The connection so surprised me

as you and I, it seemed, were so different.

You had a lifelong meth addiction;

you fully lived each moment,

               with no concern of what came next.

 

But then, you so easily made me laugh.

Your stories, although outrageous, were fun to hear.

You completely accepted each day’s drama,

with a heart full of tenderness for your family.

 

Your sudden death three days ago

has left me sad as I am strongly grieving the loss.

You made a huge difference in this world;

to your family; to your friends; and yes, to me.

 

I want you to know I saw your beautiful being,

even though you tried to hide it with your fervent demeanor.

Deep inside, you had love, compassion and truth.

That is your amazing legacy to all of us left behind.

 

I hope to meet you again on the other side

where you are healthy and so full of life.

I want to hear more crazy stories and laugh.

I will so want to see you at least one more time

to be able to again say

               “Hi Jill.”

 

HER TRUTH

 “Jamie” just turned fifty-five a few weeks ago.  I first met Jamie two months ago when we admitted her to our Palliative Care program.  I immediately connected with Jamie on so many levels; the primary one being her humor.  Jamie has accepted her Ovarian Cancer diagnosis while being in a strong decline these past few weeks.  

Jamie has had a lot of challenges in her life.  Her mother died when she was a teenager.  In addition, three of her five siblings have preceded her in death.  Jamie spoke so beautifully about her one brother, who was only 18 months older than her.  He died two years ago and she still misses him so strongly today.  Jamie shared stories about her brother that were fun and whimsical.  She adored her brother and a few tears did appear while talking about him.  Jamie did add, “I was so angry, I wanted to kill him!”   

While her emotions swayed, Jamie always ended up laughing.  She was very comical and had me laughing a lot.  She got a kick out of making others laugh.  It was great.  I believe her laughter has always helped her through the tough times she has experience throughout her life.  Keep laughing Jamie.

HER TRUTH

 

She’s had it rough during her life.

Many family deaths early on;

homeless for so many years;

along with a lifelong drug addiction.

 

Early this morning, we met with her at the shelter

to admit her to our hospice program.

Her cancer has rapidly spread;

with no more available treatment.

 

No matter what you ask her,

through the good, the bad, the ugly,

she always will, without hesitation,

tell you her absolute truth.

 

She has a very energetic personality

talking non-stop while laughing, oh so hard.

She easily admitted tripling one medication

while confessing her recent meth use a few days ago.

 

She accepts all of this with “This is called life.”

Easily adding, “I am dying.

When it is time to go, I’ll go.

               My bus is here”.

 

Her life.

          Her Truth.