When I began my career as a Nurse 10 + years ago, I naively went into the profession thinking I could heal everyone. That every single patient would be positively and “miraculously” healed because I was a well-trained nurse! As you can imagine, I very quickly was hit hard with the reality of life vs. death…and shockingly death sometimes won!
I remember my first hospice patient. I was a Nurse clinical care coordinator for a home care agency in Pennsylvania. As part of my job, I was tasked with hiring and training all staff. The staff was non-medical, which means most were inexperienced with the medical field and did not have formalized schooling. We received a referral for, we will call him Mr. X. Mr. and Mrs. X lived in a senior living community. They lived independently and never required any supportive services, but Mr. X began to fall a LOT. His physical health began to deteriorate, and he could no longer care for himself. We were called in to provide care to Mr. X and provide supportive services for Mrs. X. Mr. X was very private and he was adamant he did not need care. After slowing increasing our presence in the home, Mr. X opted into our services because he knew he was not going to get better. I need someone to take care of Mrs. X, he would repeatedly tell us. We were there to help them both accept his terminal diagnosis. We were there to watch him go from an active member of the community to home bound and then ultimately bed bound. I cried (privately) when I had to explain to his wife that Mr. X would not be getting out of bed anymore. I cringed when we placed a catheter knowing he could no longer tolerate being turned and repositioned and changed frequently. I prepared the staff for what to expect when death was near, although I had never even prepared myself for this.
While I began to anticipate the worse possible scenario with Mr. X’s death, I began to see a more peaceful transition. I watched the relationship bloom between Mrs. X and our caregivers, I watched the family receive peace and comfort knowing that Mr. X was being well taken care of and his pain was being managed. I watched the peace that came with allowing the family time to sit, hug, laugh and plan. There were days where I saw more smiles than tears. When the time came and Mr. X passed away, the caregiver, chaplain and his wife were right by his side.
This experience shaped my perspective on life vs death. Death is OK, it can be scary, but it does not have to be scary. Death can be planned, comfortable, calm, and peaceful. Loved ones can say goodbye, mourn and yet still have peace surrounding the transitioning process. In the years since this initial hospice experience, I have sat with many patients as they have left this earth. Each patient/family continue to hold a special place in my heart. They remind me everyday that life is beautiful but short, they remind me to hold tight to my loved ones and always kiss goodbye. They remind me to never go to bed angry, say a kind word and always say “I love you”. It has been my privilege in my career to not only hold the hand of a newborn baby taking their first breath but also hold the hand of a dying person taking their last. Each instance is precious in its own way. And that is how I learned to accept death at the age of 30 and fall in love with Hospice.
-Jennifer Dickison LPN
Account Executive Northern Arizona Hospice.
What a powerful and beautiful story. Thank you for sharing it,