Things I've Learned from Hospice Part Five

Making a phone call to a family member informing them that their loved one has died is probably one of the hardest parts of my job. Even though I try my hardest to prepare each family on the signs and symptoms of approaching death, that phone call is most always met with disbelief, sudden grief, and often tears. I try to take a few minutes before that call to quiet my thoughts. To focus on what I need to say. To calm the shakiness and emotions in my voice. To pray. Then I make the call. I think about how I would want to hear the news if it was my loved one. 

Last week I had the honor to witness a patient take their last breath. It was just the patient and I in the room. I had just arrived for my visit, but after one look and watching one breath, I knew death was close. I stayed at the bedside. Death came. I silently wondered if the room was filled with angels. What was that exchange of life on this earth to the next like? Silence filled the room. I opened a window. Gathered my thoughts. Made the call. Within an hour, I was on my way and moving on to the next patient. 

Each death stays with me. Especially the ones that I have the honor and duty to pronounce. There is no greater silence through a stethoscope than the absence of a heartbeat. It is a very profound moment. In that one moment life has forever changed. The patient. The family. Friends. Caregivers. Me.

~jen

Graduation Day

As I type this, we're on the highway somewhere near the Oklahoma/Kansas state line heading to Independence, Kansas for Cody's graduation from ICC. We traveled this same highway almost two years ago. We had just left Cody for his first semester of school. I cried for miles. I remember Michael asking at each little town we passed on our way home, "you ready to stop for lunch or should we keep going"? It was quite a while before I had my tears under control. Every text message from friends checking on me would send a surge of new tears. I couldn't talk to my mom until we reached Texas! I didn't know how I was going to survive this change in our lives. I had just left my first born in a college dorm, several hundred miles from home! Would he be ok? Would he do well in his classes? Would he stay out of trouble? Would he eat? Would he wash his clothes? Would he miss me?

How two years have changed us. I thought it was ironic that the place Cody would gain his independence was named Independence. We survived those first several weeks before he came home. We survived again until Christmas break. We survived the summer break (it was definitely time for him to go back to school after that summer break!). We survived. He did go to class. He did study. He made friends. He did his laundry (or maybe Brooke did!). He stayed out of trouble. He played some of his best golf ever this spring semester. He's graduating. Hopefully along the way he missed us some. What he probably doesn't realize is, he's carried a part of our hearts through all of this. Every milestone. Every accomplishment. Every great shot on the golf course, we've been there in spirit. 

I can not tell you how proud I am of him. It's immeasurable. It's the kind of pride that makes my heart swell, brings tears to my eyes, and a smile to my face.

~jen