Stairway to Heaven?

That was hard, but…

So this month I attended hospice volunteer training. I almost feel like I’ve been on a life path leading to this. Really, how many CPA’s do I know who happen to have a degree in social work? I’ve commented before that I’m the most un-accountant-like accountant I know. After working 8 years as a volunteer ombudsman in nursing homes and assisted living facilities, I’ve been around very sick people, and I think I’m ready to take on hospice work. This journey started with taking care of my parents during their last years. After my dad died of pancreas cancer, I felt like I needed to share the information we learned the hard way, maybe saving someone else some of the sense of helplessness in dealing with the system. I also remember the feeling of gratitude when the hospice people came in to help my sister and me in caring for our dad during his last weeks. They were like angels, and they helped us know that we were doing just fine. It takes a special person to do this sort of work, and I don’t think everyone is cut out for it. But I think my experience has led me to this point, and I almost feel obligated to give it a go. If someone CAN, they SHOULD.

People have extremely varying views on death and dying. In political news here, Jerry Brown actually signed the physician-assisted suicide bill. With him being a former seminary student (although it was the more liberal-leaning Jesuits), there was a lot of doubt if he’d sign it or not. The bill actually went through pretty quickly, given that it was previously tossed out. They just went at it another way since the members who voted against it were quite “religious,” and blocked the bill from getting out. Do they really think god intends for people to suffer horrible, painful deaths? What sort of god would want that? The bill was run through the health committee for a vote. That was kind of an end run, and they’re crying foul. Brown’s rationale for signing is that he couldn’t say what he’d do if he himself were in prolonged excruciating pain at his end of life, but he wouldn’t want to take that decision away from others. He actually talked to Brittany Maynard, the 27-year-old woman with the brain cancer who had to move to Oregon to end her life.

"Goodbye to all my dear friends and family that I love. Today is the day I have chosen to pass away with dignity in the face of my terminal illness, this terrible brain cancer that has taken so much from me … but would have taken so much more," she wrote on Facebook.

Dignity. Death with dignity. What a concept. We actually don’t need the bill, because hospice can quietly help, but theoretically that puts them and the family on the line for potential criminal charges. They generally don’t do an autopsy on someone in hospice, though. I’m surprised they haven’t figured that out and demanded one on every hospice patient who dies, to make sure they don’t have too much pain medication. Seriously, I wouldn’t put it past them. The war on drugs has made it very difficult for people who need pain meds.

In the hospice training, I had some long, difficult days. On one Saturday, the morning session was about the grief programs offered by Hospice, and the afternoon was led by the chaplains, primarily focused on loss. Grief and loss. Yeah, that’s a great way to spend your Saturday. We did interesting activities, and endured a breakdown by one woman, who was sent to the USA to build a better life, but she wailed and carried on about how she misses her parents. They aren’t dead! She visits once a year, and this year she’s going for 3 months. But it was a good reminder about how everyone’s experience is different. I learned a new term, “anticipatory grief,” where you feel sad just thinking about the possibility that someone you love might die.

 One exercise used as an ice breaker was to reach into our purse/pocket/whatever, and bring out a few items you brought with you & tell why. Many of the nurses had little first aid kits. And many had snacks. Pens, phones, wallets, etc. But I can say for sure I was the only one with a stack of promotional materials for the Alzheimer’s Walk, and the recipe for the lemon cake I made, since I know it’s so yummy people are going to want it. Mind you, this is before the food was put out. A little cocky, perhaps? And I had my bag of SaGuds, those little discs to hand out to people who deserve recognition for their hard work or kind deeds. Two people asked for the website so they could order some. http://www.sagudthings.com/ 

There was a panel of 3 women from a grief support group. One woman lost her husband to pancreatic cancer. We didn’t get a chance to talk to them one-on-one, but the guy next to me said his friend was just dx’d with pancreatic cancer. We both knew how it was going to end. The sad thing is, she died before he was able to get over to the hospital to see her. The next week he was beating himself up over it, as he actually drove past one day, and didn’t stop. Another woman’s husband dropped dead, and she had no time to prepare, and obviously they weren’t in hospice at that point. The last one had a husband w/lung cancer, but they got it under control. Then he tripped on the hose, fell and broke his hip, and died from pneumonia. Sound familiar? Oh yeah, that’s how my grandma died.

     The afternoon exercise had us write words on 7 pieces of paper, like a favorite place, something you want to accomplish, 2 relationships, an adjective describing yourself (I picked energetic), something you’re proud of, etc, then they came around and took the papers away, one or two at a time, ripped them up and tossed them in the trash. And at the end, they said, “Your life is complete.” This was all done silently, with the room semi-darkened. They wove a tale that was told between each loss of a paper. First, you find that you can no longer drive, on through becoming incontinent, and becoming unable to swallow. The final one was picturing yourself in the bed, and you can hear voices around you, crying, laughing, talking, muted as if you’re under water. It was a vivid visualization. What I found was that as an older person, losing all those things and being done wasn’t all that terrible. But there were quite a few younger folks in the class, and they really struggled with it. The funny thing is, the thing I wanted to accomplish was to like vegetables. And when they said we had to give something up, obviously that was the first to go. But from then on, the losses were picked for us, and some lost more than others in a given round. Due to luck of the draw, some of the participants lost their family. They reported wanting to give up at that point, as there really was no reason to go on. You already know it in your heart. Your family and dear friends are the most important thing in your life. So be sure to tell them that you love them before you climb those stairs.