Monday, September 30, 2013
Gifts
Some
of our hospice patients have a long time to wrap their minds around
the idea of death and make peace with it. Others thought they were
in good health a month ago and will be dead at the end of the week.
And way too many of those are younger than I am, younger even
than my little sister. One in particular stands out in my memory.
Christy was tougher than her name suggested and she did not want a
chaplain visit. The nurses told me that she and her Significant
Other fought all the time, although they did not fight in front of
me. He was frustrated and she was angry. She had been healthy
and fit until very recently, and now she was bald and misshapen and
unable to stand or walk without assistance. She declined quickly
and one day her boyfriend told me to come over to the house, “and
we'll see what she will do.” Christy was wary when I walked in and
simply said, “so you're the chaplain.” I told her I was, and
that it was my job to be whatever support I could to her. I told
her that this whole disease process sucked, and that I wasn't there
to defend God or shove him down her throat. I was simply there to
be someone she could talk to, or not, and happy to do anything else
she could think of that might be helpful. Christy smiled and
said, “I like you,” and I knew that I'd been given a gift. Later
I wondered how often I do not fully appreciate similar gifts, gifts of acceptance or recognition or even friendship, simply
because they are offered by people who are not dying.
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4 comments:
wow - that's an interesting perspective I've never thought of before.
I read this post when you first published it, and I even left a comment. I reckon Blogger must've eaten it.
Anyway, just being there is a blessing... both for the patient, and for you. When my parents were dying, sometimes they seemed to enjoy listening to me talk about old times, and other times, they seemed to take comfort from me just sitting beside them.
In your line of work, it's only natural that you're more tuned into the needs of the dying, so don't be too hard on yourself for not always recognizing the unspoken signs of appreciation from other people.
Wonderful post....wonderful work. Blessings, marlene
I'm grateful for the work you do. My husband wouldn't go on hospice, but my best friend did this summer. She was one of those who received a diagnosis and lived not even six weeks afterward. We talked and two different rabbis came to visit, and I know all of it helped her to feel it was okay to go.
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