Three months ago, ninety-one year old “Inga” fell and broke her hip. While in the hospital recovering, she came down with pneumonia. She was then transferred to a skilled nursing facility to recover. Inga also suffers from end stage cardiac disease. She has been in a recent decline to where she is weaker, eating less and a bit more confused.
Inga normally lives with her husband, “Eddie”. They have been married seventy years. Eddie is ninety-six years old and still gets around using a walker. Inga and Eddie live in a senior retirement community which offers independent living, assisted living and skilled nursing. Inga has been in the skilled nursing unit for two months and is ready to return home to Eddie, who is in assisted living housing section.
Inga and Eddie have three adult children. Their middle son, “Dennis”, visits daily to check in on both of his parents. They had another daughter, “Janet”, who died years ago from cancer. Their eldest son lives in another state and is unable to do any “hands-on” help.
The hospice nurse and I met with Inga and Dennis today to admit Inga to hospice. Inga is bedridden and requires assistance with all of her needs. The plan is for Inga to return home tomorrow. Dennis has arranged for twenty-four hour attendant care for his parents. Dennis had been visiting his parents daily and feels that both of his parents will be much happier together. Dennis states it also will be a lot easier for him to assist them.
Inga smiles so easily with her only focus being to get home to Eddie. Her smile was huge when the hospice nurse informed her that she will be going home tomorrow. Inga has no fears about dying saying she has people she wants to visit. I know that as a mother, the first person she will run to will be her daughter Janet. I can visualize Inga with a huge smile when greeting her daughter. Go in peace, Inga.
GOING HOME
She’s made it to ninety-one years.
Her life has been full.
No matter what; good times or bad,
she will always have a quick smile.
She’s recovering from pneumonia.
She’s been in one hospital or another.
She just wants to get back home
to her husband of seventy years.
They live with around-the-clock care.
They both know they can’t do it alone
He’s ninety-six, but doing better than her.
They’ve been apart much too long.
She knows her days are numbered.
Her strong faith erases any fears.
“I am ready to go to Heaven.
There’s lots of people I want to visit.”
She’ll be in her own bed tomorrow,
with her husband again by her side.
She will get her final wish
before it’s time for her to
go home.
Saturday, April 25, 2015
Saturday, April 11, 2015
TOUGH TIMES
“William”, eighty-eight, suffers from Parkinson’s Disease and dementia. He’s suffered from the Parkinson’s for twenty-five years. He has had dementia for ten of those years.
William is married to “Julia”, his wife of forty-eight years. They have one son, who is estranged. Julia had been caring for William in their home until two years ago when she realized, she could no longer manage him. William now resides in a nearby Board and Care home where Julia can visit daily. Julia has her own health issues as walks with a walker. She has had two hip surgeries on the same hip as the first one didn’t work correctly. In addition, she has back problems. Each time Julia shared a story about the struggles in her life, she would always add, “What are you going to do?”
William has been in a recent decline to where he is bedridden, eating very little and sleeping most of his days. He is very hard of hearing and confused; speaking only one to two words at a time. William slept through our entire hospice visit.
The moment we walked in, Julia started to share her stories. She was born in Czechoslovakia. During World War II, her family fled to Germany as the Russians were invading her country. Her family eventually settled in London. When Julia was eighteen, she received a Visa to move to San Francisco. That is where she and William met.
Julia also spoke of her estranged son and how she is best friends with his “ex-ex-ex-ex” girlfriend. In addition, she spoke of all of her own health problems. She has several close friends and a number of very good neighbors. She added that she can get lost in a good book. She says she will read anything she can get her hands on.
Julia takes things in stride with a very positive attitude. She does not complain, but shares these stories with a smile and a laugh. She is so aware of what she can control in life and what she cannot. She keeps moving forward saying, “What are you going to do?” Julia says she will be relieved when William dies. Not for her, but for him. She says he has no quality of life at all. She knows she will miss him, but hates to see him this way.
I know Julia will be okay after all is said and done. She will handle William’s death like all of her other life challenges; with grace, humor and acceptance. She is my hero. She embraces life and works the most out of what she has, choosing not to dwell on what she has lost. “What are you going to do?”
TOUGH TIMES
Her life has been full of heartache.
It’s been one thing after another.
Recent times have been tough for her.
It’s like she got more than her fair share.
She smiles so easily when sharing her stories.
She has no bitterness, no resentment, no blame.
Her life is a dramatic, historical novel.
She looks forward to reading the next page.
Her family left their home during the war.
They had no choice but to abruptly leave.
She was seven and saw it as an adventure.
To a new land, a new culture, a new beginning.
She has her own health problems;
their son is estranged.
Finances are a struggle,
but she’ll never complain.
He got sick twenty-five years ago.
His decline has been steady and slow.
First his body, then his mind.
She continues to smile and plug away.
She has such a positive outlook on life
no matter what comes her way.
She knows to let go when she can’t control.
With a smile, she truly believes,
“What are you going to do?”
William is married to “Julia”, his wife of forty-eight years. They have one son, who is estranged. Julia had been caring for William in their home until two years ago when she realized, she could no longer manage him. William now resides in a nearby Board and Care home where Julia can visit daily. Julia has her own health issues as walks with a walker. She has had two hip surgeries on the same hip as the first one didn’t work correctly. In addition, she has back problems. Each time Julia shared a story about the struggles in her life, she would always add, “What are you going to do?”
William has been in a recent decline to where he is bedridden, eating very little and sleeping most of his days. He is very hard of hearing and confused; speaking only one to two words at a time. William slept through our entire hospice visit.
The moment we walked in, Julia started to share her stories. She was born in Czechoslovakia. During World War II, her family fled to Germany as the Russians were invading her country. Her family eventually settled in London. When Julia was eighteen, she received a Visa to move to San Francisco. That is where she and William met.
Julia also spoke of her estranged son and how she is best friends with his “ex-ex-ex-ex” girlfriend. In addition, she spoke of all of her own health problems. She has several close friends and a number of very good neighbors. She added that she can get lost in a good book. She says she will read anything she can get her hands on.
Julia takes things in stride with a very positive attitude. She does not complain, but shares these stories with a smile and a laugh. She is so aware of what she can control in life and what she cannot. She keeps moving forward saying, “What are you going to do?” Julia says she will be relieved when William dies. Not for her, but for him. She says he has no quality of life at all. She knows she will miss him, but hates to see him this way.
I know Julia will be okay after all is said and done. She will handle William’s death like all of her other life challenges; with grace, humor and acceptance. She is my hero. She embraces life and works the most out of what she has, choosing not to dwell on what she has lost. “What are you going to do?”
TOUGH TIMES
Her life has been full of heartache.
It’s been one thing after another.
Recent times have been tough for her.
It’s like she got more than her fair share.
She smiles so easily when sharing her stories.
She has no bitterness, no resentment, no blame.
Her life is a dramatic, historical novel.
She looks forward to reading the next page.
Her family left their home during the war.
They had no choice but to abruptly leave.
She was seven and saw it as an adventure.
To a new land, a new culture, a new beginning.
She has her own health problems;
their son is estranged.
Finances are a struggle,
but she’ll never complain.
He got sick twenty-five years ago.
His decline has been steady and slow.
First his body, then his mind.
She continues to smile and plug away.
She has such a positive outlook on life
no matter what comes her way.
She knows to let go when she can’t control.
With a smile, she truly believes,
“What are you going to do?”
Saturday, April 4, 2015
READY TO GO
“Janelle”, ninety-one, has had a long history of cardiac disease. She was widowed for many years and has been living alone. Janelle did not look or act her age at all. Two weeks before, she made her daily trek down to the Senior Center, several blocks away, to engage in their daily activities.
She was very social and had many friends. She lived in a one bedroom home behind her grandson and his family’s home. Her grandson and his wife would check in on her, but pretty much, Janelle was able to come and go independently.
Ten days ago, she ended up in the hospital because of her heart condition. The plan was for Janelle to stay in her own home in order that her son, “Gary”, her grandson and his wife would be available to give her the “around-the-clock” care she needed. Gary lived about twenty minutes away, but would be spending much of his time with his mother.
There was no more treatment for Janelle’s damaged heart. She was now on continuous oxygen. When the admission nurse and I walked in, we found Janelle sitting at the kitchen table dabbling at her food. She said her appetite was gone. She also added that she was so weak now. I encouraged her to lay down if she needed, but she wanted to sit up to hear what we had to say. The nurse immediately went with Gary to check out Janelle’s medication. Janelle then turned to me and said that she was ready to go, but Gary wasn’t ready for her to go.
Janelle added that she had no fears about dying, but her primary concern was for her son. She didn’t know how to tell him that she was ready to go. I offered to share the information with him and she immediately responded, “Yes, please.!” After Janelle went to lie down, I shared her wishes with Gary. I shared how it sometimes helps if one can give a loved one permission to go. I said it is okay if you can’t. Just follow your heart and the words will come.
Hours later, Janelle’s illness took a dramatic downward turn. Within two days, she was unresponsive and bedridden. She died two days after our meeting. It seemed fitting, as she had been so independent and in charge during her life. Janelle would have wanted to go this way; quickly and peacefully. Gary was able to give his mom permission to go. Because of her family’s understanding and support, she indeed had a good death.
READY TO GO
She has always been very independent.
She lived each day to the fullest.
She was always ready to go;
lunch with friends; Senior Center activities.
Her decline was swift and debilitating.
It caught everyone off guard.
She needs help now with everything.
She can no longer live alone.
With tears in her eyes,
she turned to me and said,
“I am worried about my son.
I am ready to go, but he’s not.”
I asked if she wanted me to tell him.
She eagerly replied, “Yes!”
I informed him of her wishes.
Tearfully, he said, “I understand.”
Two days later, she was bedridden.
She was unresponsive and close to death.
With heartfelt words, he gave her permission to go.
Hours later she quietly passed.
She heard what she needed to hear.
He said she went “calmly with peace”.
“We couldn’t have had it any better.”
Both now ready,
for her to let go.
She was very social and had many friends. She lived in a one bedroom home behind her grandson and his family’s home. Her grandson and his wife would check in on her, but pretty much, Janelle was able to come and go independently.
Ten days ago, she ended up in the hospital because of her heart condition. The plan was for Janelle to stay in her own home in order that her son, “Gary”, her grandson and his wife would be available to give her the “around-the-clock” care she needed. Gary lived about twenty minutes away, but would be spending much of his time with his mother.
There was no more treatment for Janelle’s damaged heart. She was now on continuous oxygen. When the admission nurse and I walked in, we found Janelle sitting at the kitchen table dabbling at her food. She said her appetite was gone. She also added that she was so weak now. I encouraged her to lay down if she needed, but she wanted to sit up to hear what we had to say. The nurse immediately went with Gary to check out Janelle’s medication. Janelle then turned to me and said that she was ready to go, but Gary wasn’t ready for her to go.
Janelle added that she had no fears about dying, but her primary concern was for her son. She didn’t know how to tell him that she was ready to go. I offered to share the information with him and she immediately responded, “Yes, please.!” After Janelle went to lie down, I shared her wishes with Gary. I shared how it sometimes helps if one can give a loved one permission to go. I said it is okay if you can’t. Just follow your heart and the words will come.
Hours later, Janelle’s illness took a dramatic downward turn. Within two days, she was unresponsive and bedridden. She died two days after our meeting. It seemed fitting, as she had been so independent and in charge during her life. Janelle would have wanted to go this way; quickly and peacefully. Gary was able to give his mom permission to go. Because of her family’s understanding and support, she indeed had a good death.
READY TO GO
She has always been very independent.
She lived each day to the fullest.
She was always ready to go;
lunch with friends; Senior Center activities.
Her decline was swift and debilitating.
It caught everyone off guard.
She needs help now with everything.
She can no longer live alone.
With tears in her eyes,
she turned to me and said,
“I am worried about my son.
I am ready to go, but he’s not.”
I asked if she wanted me to tell him.
She eagerly replied, “Yes!”
I informed him of her wishes.
Tearfully, he said, “I understand.”
Two days later, she was bedridden.
She was unresponsive and close to death.
With heartfelt words, he gave her permission to go.
Hours later she quietly passed.
She heard what she needed to hear.
He said she went “calmly with peace”.
“We couldn’t have had it any better.”
Both now ready,
for her to let go.
Saturday, March 28, 2015
WHO HELPED WHOM?
I first met Ken and Lou a year ago. Ken came onto hospice suffering from stomach cancer. They both were in their eighties and were married sixty-two years. This was a very close-knit and loving family. They had three children who were so involved and present for their parents.
Ken’s health declined slowly over the six months I visited, but he would always have a smile no matter what. Not much ever got him down. Ken and Lou were devoted to each other. Ken always insisted that Lou go to the local pool to swim at least twice a week. Lou loved swimming and had many girlfriends there who gave her the needed support.
Each time I visited, the two of them would always ask how I was doing. We would talk about local restaurants, shops, nurseries etc. It seemed like most visits were just social, although I was able to help both of them, now and then, with their grief of experiencing such a loss.
I had not seen them for six months after leaving my position. I found out from the hospice nurse last week, that Ken had died. Lou had told the nurse to make sure I knew and that she would like me to come to the funeral. I was so honored to have been invited.
As I was leaving the cemetery, I went up to Lou to say goodbye. It was then she told me how I had helped both of them. I was a bit surprised, but humbled by her response. It is so easy to see what others give us, but most often, we are not aware of what we give in return. I truly believe that each and every one of us make a difference each day. We probably would be surprised at how many people we have helped along the way. To all of you; keep up the good work.
WHO HELPED WHOM?
I met them about a year ago.
I liked them from the start.
The conversation would immediately start
once I stepped foot into their home.
He shared these fascinating stories
about being a test pilot in the military.
He laughed while he told me how he once
crashed a million dollar fighter plane.
I didn’t need to visit as often as I did,
but they were such a joy to be around.
I didn’t feel that I did that much for them,
but they were always happy to see me come.
I hadn’t seem them for many months
since no longer carrying a caseload.
I found out he died last week.
She asked for me to come.
I was there as much for them as for me.
I teased her and said I didn’t do much for either of you.
She turned serious and replied,
“Yes you did. You were always there for us.”
One only sees what comes in.
We don’t notice what we give out.
I just know I am so glad to have met them.
Helping them indeed helped me too.
Ken’s health declined slowly over the six months I visited, but he would always have a smile no matter what. Not much ever got him down. Ken and Lou were devoted to each other. Ken always insisted that Lou go to the local pool to swim at least twice a week. Lou loved swimming and had many girlfriends there who gave her the needed support.
Each time I visited, the two of them would always ask how I was doing. We would talk about local restaurants, shops, nurseries etc. It seemed like most visits were just social, although I was able to help both of them, now and then, with their grief of experiencing such a loss.
I had not seen them for six months after leaving my position. I found out from the hospice nurse last week, that Ken had died. Lou had told the nurse to make sure I knew and that she would like me to come to the funeral. I was so honored to have been invited.
As I was leaving the cemetery, I went up to Lou to say goodbye. It was then she told me how I had helped both of them. I was a bit surprised, but humbled by her response. It is so easy to see what others give us, but most often, we are not aware of what we give in return. I truly believe that each and every one of us make a difference each day. We probably would be surprised at how many people we have helped along the way. To all of you; keep up the good work.
WHO HELPED WHOM?
I met them about a year ago.
I liked them from the start.
The conversation would immediately start
once I stepped foot into their home.
He shared these fascinating stories
about being a test pilot in the military.
He laughed while he told me how he once
crashed a million dollar fighter plane.
I didn’t need to visit as often as I did,
but they were such a joy to be around.
I didn’t feel that I did that much for them,
but they were always happy to see me come.
I hadn’t seem them for many months
since no longer carrying a caseload.
I found out he died last week.
She asked for me to come.
I was there as much for them as for me.
I teased her and said I didn’t do much for either of you.
She turned serious and replied,
“Yes you did. You were always there for us.”
One only sees what comes in.
We don’t notice what we give out.
I just know I am so glad to have met them.
Helping them indeed helped me too.
Saturday, March 21, 2015
HER KIDS
“Ellie”, ninety-seven, was admitted into a skilled nursing facility yesterday. Ellie suffers from cardiac disease. She is widowed and had been living alone in her own home until last week when she was admitted into the hospital due to heart complications. After a week’s stay in the hospital, it was obvious that she could no longer live alone. Ellie was discharged from the hospital yesterday to a skilled nursing facility.
The hospice nurse and I went out to admit Ellie to hospice. Ellie is alert and oriented and was able to sign her own paperwork. We just missed meeting her eldest son, “David”, as he had just left after a short visit with his mother. David lives about two hours away. He had to get home before the heavy storm that was predicted. His drive is over mountainous, snowy terrain.
Ellie was in good spirits and had easily accepted her new living situation. She had an easy smile and has always taken life as it comes. She spoke about needing someone to bring her some clothes as all she had was the hospital gown on her back. David had arranged for someone to bring his mother some much needed clothes.
Ellie spoke of her two other children, “Janice“ and “Bobby“, who live together in a neighboring state. They had just returned home as had visited while she was in the hospital. Ellie felt bad as she knew most of the burden was on her eldest son, David. She was a mama bear worrying about her bear cubs.
I asked Ellie if she ever looks at her kids as adults or are they still just kids to her. She smiled and said that yes, they are, and always will be, her kids. She made me smile as once a mother, always a mother. How amazing and wonderful is that?
HER KIDS
She has raised three kids.
She taught them well.
They all want to help her now
since her move into the care facility.
She had been living alone until last week
when her health problems became much worse.
It happened so suddenly; no time to prepare.
She needs more help now than ever before.
She hates to bother her kids.
She says they are all so busy.
But she needs someone to bring her clothes;
to sort through her belongings; to help pay her bills.
In spite of it all, she’ll smile so easily.
Never once feeling sorry for herself.
Knowing she needs them,
but not wanting to burden her kids.
It is a mother’s prerogative to worry about them.
It has always been and will continue to be that way.
Even though she is now ninety-seven years old
and they are seventy-five, seventy and fifty eight.
But when all is said and done,
she is just a mom
protecting and loving
her three young kids.
The hospice nurse and I went out to admit Ellie to hospice. Ellie is alert and oriented and was able to sign her own paperwork. We just missed meeting her eldest son, “David”, as he had just left after a short visit with his mother. David lives about two hours away. He had to get home before the heavy storm that was predicted. His drive is over mountainous, snowy terrain.
Ellie was in good spirits and had easily accepted her new living situation. She had an easy smile and has always taken life as it comes. She spoke about needing someone to bring her some clothes as all she had was the hospital gown on her back. David had arranged for someone to bring his mother some much needed clothes.
Ellie spoke of her two other children, “Janice“ and “Bobby“, who live together in a neighboring state. They had just returned home as had visited while she was in the hospital. Ellie felt bad as she knew most of the burden was on her eldest son, David. She was a mama bear worrying about her bear cubs.
I asked Ellie if she ever looks at her kids as adults or are they still just kids to her. She smiled and said that yes, they are, and always will be, her kids. She made me smile as once a mother, always a mother. How amazing and wonderful is that?
HER KIDS
She has raised three kids.
She taught them well.
They all want to help her now
since her move into the care facility.
She had been living alone until last week
when her health problems became much worse.
It happened so suddenly; no time to prepare.
She needs more help now than ever before.
She hates to bother her kids.
She says they are all so busy.
But she needs someone to bring her clothes;
to sort through her belongings; to help pay her bills.
In spite of it all, she’ll smile so easily.
Never once feeling sorry for herself.
Knowing she needs them,
but not wanting to burden her kids.
It is a mother’s prerogative to worry about them.
It has always been and will continue to be that way.
Even though she is now ninety-seven years old
and they are seventy-five, seventy and fifty eight.
But when all is said and done,
she is just a mom
protecting and loving
her three young kids.
Saturday, March 14, 2015
PATHS
I have experienced so many coincidences in my work as a hospice social worker. I do not believe in coincidences as believe it is our higher power at play. When I first met “Alice” and her family, I had no idea that we had a connection. Unbeknownst to all of us, I had met several of Alice’s family members at my cousin’s wedding several years ago.
Four days ago, I first met Alice to admit her to hospice. She was in the hospital and so anxious just to get home. Fortunately, we were able to arrange for Alice to be discharged that afternoon. Alice lives with her husband of forty years, “Jessie”. Jessie was standing by Alice’s bedside. It was so obvious how much he loved her. Alice’s two daughters and a son-in-law were also there.
Alice shared that she had no fears about dying as knew she was going to a better place. Her only concern was leaving her family. Alice has an extremely, large, extended family. They have lived in the same small, rural country town for years. Alice and Jessie are well known and loved by so many in their community.
I felt an instant connection with Alice and her family. They laughed and loved so easily. They so appreciated anything and everything that anyone did for them. They were so gracious. Little did I know then, that I would meet up with Alice’s family again.
Four days later, when I got to the office, I heard that Alice died thirty minutes before. My earlier schedule got shifted and so I was available to drive out to the their home to support the family.
The morning we admitted Alice to hospice, I spoke with my cousin, Jessica, who was telling me about her best friend’s grandmother going onto hospice. Our satellite connection was poor and I couldn’t catch the name of her friend’s grandmother. When I walked out to my car after admitting Alice to our program, I saw that Jessica had texted Alice’s name on my phone. Coincidently, Alice was Jessica’s best friend’s grandmother.
By helping Alice and her family, I also felt that I was helping my cousin Jessica. A double bonus for me. It is a humbling and grateful feeling to have been involved. I do not think it was a coincidence. I believe it was my higher power. I felt I was meant to meet this amazing family. The whole experience felt so right. It is the spirituality of my work at play and why I continue to do what I do. Go in peace, Alice.
PATHS
We met four days ago in the hospital.
Her wish was to just get home.
We arranged transportation that same day,
not knowing we’d meet up again so soon.
Neither of us knew or were aware
that our paths had crossed once before.
It felt so comfortable being with them.
Somehow, were we meant to meet again?
My appointment was running late.
I missed the admission I had planned to do.
She died today and I was suddenly available.
Was this sequence of events planned that way?
We realized we had met before.
Our connection was my cousin, their friend.
Was a higher power directing our way
so our paths would cross again?
It doesn’t matter if it was serendipity or chance.
The important thing is that I just know; I just believe
that I was honored to be there.
So thankful
that again
our paths did cross.
Four days ago, I first met Alice to admit her to hospice. She was in the hospital and so anxious just to get home. Fortunately, we were able to arrange for Alice to be discharged that afternoon. Alice lives with her husband of forty years, “Jessie”. Jessie was standing by Alice’s bedside. It was so obvious how much he loved her. Alice’s two daughters and a son-in-law were also there.
Alice shared that she had no fears about dying as knew she was going to a better place. Her only concern was leaving her family. Alice has an extremely, large, extended family. They have lived in the same small, rural country town for years. Alice and Jessie are well known and loved by so many in their community.
I felt an instant connection with Alice and her family. They laughed and loved so easily. They so appreciated anything and everything that anyone did for them. They were so gracious. Little did I know then, that I would meet up with Alice’s family again.
Four days later, when I got to the office, I heard that Alice died thirty minutes before. My earlier schedule got shifted and so I was available to drive out to the their home to support the family.
The morning we admitted Alice to hospice, I spoke with my cousin, Jessica, who was telling me about her best friend’s grandmother going onto hospice. Our satellite connection was poor and I couldn’t catch the name of her friend’s grandmother. When I walked out to my car after admitting Alice to our program, I saw that Jessica had texted Alice’s name on my phone. Coincidently, Alice was Jessica’s best friend’s grandmother.
By helping Alice and her family, I also felt that I was helping my cousin Jessica. A double bonus for me. It is a humbling and grateful feeling to have been involved. I do not think it was a coincidence. I believe it was my higher power. I felt I was meant to meet this amazing family. The whole experience felt so right. It is the spirituality of my work at play and why I continue to do what I do. Go in peace, Alice.
PATHS
We met four days ago in the hospital.
Her wish was to just get home.
We arranged transportation that same day,
not knowing we’d meet up again so soon.
Neither of us knew or were aware
that our paths had crossed once before.
It felt so comfortable being with them.
Somehow, were we meant to meet again?
My appointment was running late.
I missed the admission I had planned to do.
She died today and I was suddenly available.
Was this sequence of events planned that way?
We realized we had met before.
Our connection was my cousin, their friend.
Was a higher power directing our way
so our paths would cross again?
It doesn’t matter if it was serendipity or chance.
The important thing is that I just know; I just believe
that I was honored to be there.
So thankful
that again
our paths did cross.
Saturday, March 7, 2015
ST CHARLES
“John”, eighty-six, suffers from end stage cardiac disease. John was admitted to the hospital yesterday with shortness of breath. John told his doctors that he is done with any further treatment and wants to have comfort measures only. It was then John’s doctor made a referral to hospice.
John lives with “Nellie”, his wife of sixty-two years. It is so obvious how much John loves Nellie. John said that he had no fear about dying as has strong Catholic beliefs of God and the afterlife. He knows that he will be okay. John’s only concern is about Nellie. I told John that we will make sure that Nellie will be okay as hospice follows for thirteen months afterwards. John gave me a big smile and squeezed my hand.
John and Nellie have three sons, of which two live out of state. Charles, their youngest son, lives with his parents and is the primary caregiver for both. Charles owns his own mailbox business and took a day off today to meet with us. Charles knows his mother can no longer care for his dad and, with help from the hospital and hospice, we are transferring him to a skilled nursing facility today.
The nurse and I initially met Charles alone out in the hallway. Charles gave both of us a “heads-up” about his mother’s outbursts. When we walked into the hospital room, Nellie immediately got up and stalked out of the room while sarcastically telling Charles, ”It is obvious how you don’t care what I think.” The nurse and I explained our hospice program to Charles and John, while Nellie stayed sitting outside in the hallway.
When it came time to sign the admission paperwork, Charles and I walked outside to find a sitting area. When Nellie saw us, she immediately got up and followed us to a small conference room. I started to educate Charles about the paperwork and where we needed his signature. Each item I explained, Nellie would complain with sarcasm and paranoia. Hospice is totally covered by one’s insurance. With Nellie’s short term memory, she would forget our conversation within minutes, thinking we were selling her some unneeded insurance.
I later asked Charles how he handles his mother’s wrath along with his dad’s declining health. Charles answered, “One day at a time. One moment at a time.” I told him what a beautiful job he is doing, It was then that I called him St. Charles. He seemed surprised, but then just glowed.
Caregivers do not know what a challenge it can be. Also, most are not aware of what a difference and impact they are making on a loved one’s life. When it is time for a caregiver to cross over, I know they will jump to the head of the line. My heart aches for Nellie and her stressful perception of her life. Fortunately she has a strong family who will continue to love and care for her. I wish her and her family peace.
ST. CHARLES
His aging parents are both struggling.
His dad with his body; his mom with her mind.
His heart is not working as it should.
Her confusion is causing paranoia and anger.
She just doesn’t quite understand
that she can no longer care for him.
He needs a lot more help now
so they are moving him to a facility today.
Her angry outbursts roll off her son’s back.
He knows it is not his mom inside.
He stays calm and listens quietly.
He has the patience of a saint.
He worries about his dad.
He knows he doesn’t have long to live.
He tries hard to focus on both of their needs.
Dementia only allows her to look at herself.
He’ll continue to be a dutiful son.
He’ll continue to do what he needs to do.
He’ll calmly do the right thing for both parents
with patience, compassion, tolerance and love.
St. Charles.
John lives with “Nellie”, his wife of sixty-two years. It is so obvious how much John loves Nellie. John said that he had no fear about dying as has strong Catholic beliefs of God and the afterlife. He knows that he will be okay. John’s only concern is about Nellie. I told John that we will make sure that Nellie will be okay as hospice follows for thirteen months afterwards. John gave me a big smile and squeezed my hand.
John and Nellie have three sons, of which two live out of state. Charles, their youngest son, lives with his parents and is the primary caregiver for both. Charles owns his own mailbox business and took a day off today to meet with us. Charles knows his mother can no longer care for his dad and, with help from the hospital and hospice, we are transferring him to a skilled nursing facility today.
The nurse and I initially met Charles alone out in the hallway. Charles gave both of us a “heads-up” about his mother’s outbursts. When we walked into the hospital room, Nellie immediately got up and stalked out of the room while sarcastically telling Charles, ”It is obvious how you don’t care what I think.” The nurse and I explained our hospice program to Charles and John, while Nellie stayed sitting outside in the hallway.
When it came time to sign the admission paperwork, Charles and I walked outside to find a sitting area. When Nellie saw us, she immediately got up and followed us to a small conference room. I started to educate Charles about the paperwork and where we needed his signature. Each item I explained, Nellie would complain with sarcasm and paranoia. Hospice is totally covered by one’s insurance. With Nellie’s short term memory, she would forget our conversation within minutes, thinking we were selling her some unneeded insurance.
I later asked Charles how he handles his mother’s wrath along with his dad’s declining health. Charles answered, “One day at a time. One moment at a time.” I told him what a beautiful job he is doing, It was then that I called him St. Charles. He seemed surprised, but then just glowed.
Caregivers do not know what a challenge it can be. Also, most are not aware of what a difference and impact they are making on a loved one’s life. When it is time for a caregiver to cross over, I know they will jump to the head of the line. My heart aches for Nellie and her stressful perception of her life. Fortunately she has a strong family who will continue to love and care for her. I wish her and her family peace.
ST. CHARLES
His aging parents are both struggling.
His dad with his body; his mom with her mind.
His heart is not working as it should.
Her confusion is causing paranoia and anger.
She just doesn’t quite understand
that she can no longer care for him.
He needs a lot more help now
so they are moving him to a facility today.
Her angry outbursts roll off her son’s back.
He knows it is not his mom inside.
He stays calm and listens quietly.
He has the patience of a saint.
He worries about his dad.
He knows he doesn’t have long to live.
He tries hard to focus on both of their needs.
Dementia only allows her to look at herself.
He’ll continue to be a dutiful son.
He’ll continue to do what he needs to do.
He’ll calmly do the right thing for both parents
with patience, compassion, tolerance and love.
St. Charles.
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