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