what my hospice visit is like

Another gloomy Saturday and all I want to do is go back to bed after seeing Courtney off to carowinds at 7am. But duty calls.

I volunteered with Hospice last summer and have been working with the same patient for months. I adore her, but I'll be honest- when its gloomy outside and my hair refuses to do anything resembling normalcy, the last thing I feel like doing is getting dressed and heading out to the nursing home on my Saturday morning- when I could be going back to bed.

However, it is a commitment I have made and it is something I know I need to do. So instead of playing sick and hiding under the covers, I pull on my clothes, get in my car and head out.

Entering the nursing home is like entering another world. There are tables set up inside the entrance which seat four...some of them have one or two people at them. There are scattered patients in wheelchairs and a few on the couch watching the tv- though the birds they have are so loud its a wonder that they can hear the tv over the chirping and chatter. These people are beautiful people if you look closely- if you can see past the bent over bodies, the vacant eyes, the drooling lips, the damaged bodies. If you look them in the eye and say a cheery "good morning", life comes into those eyes and they very congenially wish you a good morning back...at least some of them do. Others I just pat a hand and wish them a good day and they stare in uncomprehension- but I can't help but feel that human touch connects with them somewhere.

After I make my way through the lobby and sign in, I head to my patient's room. She is usually lying on her bed, oxygen hooked up to her nose and ordinarily is dozing. Today I sat in "my" chair and watched her for a few minutes until she stirred. Her skin is so papery and has an almost waxy look, her body is thin and she looks rather weak...and it scares me a bit as I've never seen her look this "old" before...but she opens her eyes and greets me and my fears subside...she is still full of life.

She has a quick smile when she is amused...she answers questions as succintly as possible and sometimes conversation lulls, so we sit companionably until the next topic strikes one of us. It is not always comfortable...I'm not sure that anyone is completely comfortable with silence, but its ok...I am getting used to not feeling like every quiet moment must be filled.

We talk about families, her health, what she has been up to which is usually nothing, and I share about my kids activities and my life.

Today her roommate paid me a high compliment and it got us on the topic of Revelation- she said if you didn't know better you would think the author of Revelation must have been on lsd...that its a scary book and she is afraid of armageddon. Which led to conversation about salvation. It was interesting...I asked if she had asked Jesus into her life and she said yes she had...over and over again in case it didn't take. (which reminds me of when I was a child and thought the same thing). She quoted sins of the Bible such as sexual sin and dabauchery and some other big words... which led to discussion of how once Christ is in your heart, your sins- future, present and past- are all forgiven. She was quick to point out to me that she was not involved in sexual sin. I appreciated that divulgence.

After I gave her a pen as she had lost hers- you would have thought I gave her a gold bar or a sparkling diamond she was so happy to have that pen- I turned my attention back to my patient.

We sat for a while and chatted a bit and her eyes kept closing so I knew it was time to go. I took her hand in mine and prayed with her...it was a very precious and filling moment...it was a chance to commune with her and God at the same time and it is one of my favorite parts of the visit. Then I told her to take a nap before lunch and that I would be back next week.

I got up to leave and her roommate thanked me again for the pen- I think I will buy her a package of pens before I return next week- and I walked back out through the lobby. I passed the same lady I saw on the way in- a very lovely older lady with smooth cocoa skin and beautiful white hair and I chatted with her for a minute before I left.

On the way to my car I was so thankful I had put my selfish desire to stay at home aside and had gone on to what I knew would be a blessing. As I got in my car I found myself wishing I could turn around and go back, but I knew my patient needed her rest so I went on home...grateful for all that I have even though it is not much compared to what a lot of people have.

This has been on of  the best decisions I have ever made in my life. What a blessing she has been to my life...even when conversation lulls, even when I'm having a bad day and would rather be wallowing in my selfish misery, I cannot imagine a better way to spend my time.

I have heard several people say that they could never do it...that it would be too sad...that it would be too hard...that its a "wonderful thing" that I am doing. But I don't see it that way. Its not sad or hard, and as far as a wonderful thing- I don't view it as doing "a wonderful thing"- but merely spending time with someone who has lived a wonderfully full life, who is dying and who puts up with my inane conversation and who I have grown to love, and who deserves to have attention paid to her- to help give her life in her life. I almost feel selfish doing it as I end up feeling so full when I leave.

I know the day will come when my patient is no longer here- and I will miss her greatly, and her roommates and their quirkiness too! It will be a very hard moment for me, but I knew that was part of the hospice deal going in and so I am as prepared as I can be for that moment.

God is good. He has blessed me in so many ways in my life. And all the unimportant things fall away when I get the privilage of doing something so wonderful as volunteering for them. And I am grateful and thankful that I have the precious patient I have.

So thats my visit...it was only an hour today but thats ok...we will have next week to catch up on the nothing she did all week and the stuff that makes up my life. And I look forward to it.

Of course, next Saturday will probably be another morning when I wake up and think "I really don't want to go anywhere this morning" but I will, and I will be better for doing it.