Today I received the call I had expected to get for the past several weeks. The call telling me that our hospice patient had died. Although these calls are to be expected, I usually feel a sense of sadness upon receiving this news. But this time – this call came with a feeling of relief – relief for our patient who is now free of the pain that had, over the past two months, become unbearable for her.
When I received a similar call after our first hospice patient died, I wept. Actually, I sobbed into the phone as the director of Hospice Life Care Services delivered the message to me. I surprised myself at this reaction. I had been visiting elders in assisted living facilities with my therapy dogs for the past twenty years. They were all there to end their days… One at a time, I’d learn that Ernestine had died over the weekend, or Collette had been taken to the hospital and didn’t make it back. I had attended some of their funerals – even bringing my therapy dog they had enjoyed so much with me to the service. But, this was different – somehow. I shocked myself, truly, at my response.
I had received the hospice training. Yes, I knew that I was bringing my therapy dog James in to help ease the patient’s pain in their final stage of life. But my reaction made me question whether I was cutout for such work.
Our hospice patient, Caren, changed all that…
She had no family or friends. Caren was all-alone. Through the weeks and months we visited, she talked to James about sad happenings in her life – her strained relationship with her parents who were now dead, her failed marriage. She told him things she wished she had done differently when she was young. Her words were always spoken directly to the dog.
In the beginning, she was seated in her wheelchair where James sat by her side each week, his head resting in her lap. But, when the pain became unbearable, she lay in bed with James lying by her side… his head gently resting on her chest so she could stroke is head.
On our last visit, she was unable to move – so I placed her hand on James’ head so she could feel his soft fur as he lay by her side. When we were getting ready to leave, somehow… she mustered the strength to move her arm. She grabbed my hand in hers and looking up at me, with great difficulty she uttered, “Thank you… Thank you for bringing James to visit me… I really mean it.”
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