A Gift

A gift, I heard.  These papers were a gift.  It looked like no gift I had ever seen.  No shiny ribbon, no fancy bow.  Just papers.  I flew closer as the family talked about this gift.  It was something their mother had given to them, and it was called an Advance Directive.

The papers told her family that if she were at the end of life, and the burden of treatment outweighed the benefit, their mother did not want her life prolonged through artificial means.  Mother had made it clear that she did not wish to trade quality of life for quantity.

I sensed the relief of the doctor.  This patient would be comfortable, and enjoy some relatively good days with family.  She would watch her grandchildren play, see her garden burst forth in the vivid colors of spring, and eat all the ice cream her heart desired!

I sensed the relief of the mother.  No more hospital stays, no more procedures.  She was tired.  She would be comfortable, and she was at peace.

Mostly, I sensed the relief of her children, whose mother had made her own decisions and ensured that her adult children would honor them.  They did not need to guess her wishes.  They were not filled with uncertainty or guilt.  They gladly filled their mother’s remaining time with love, shared memories, and even laughter.

April 16^th is National Healthcare Decisions Day.  Have you made yours?  Click here for a free copy of the South Carolina Health Power of Attorney.  Make your own healthcare decisions in case someday you are unable to speak on your own behalf.  And be sure to give your family the gift of knowing your choices.

The Custom of the Quilt

Dignity.  It is an important word to those whom I watch working as I fly about at Hospice of the Upstate.  It seems important to them because it seems important to those they serve.  Apparently dignity can be hard to come by when one is suffering illness.  Yet it is so important for these nurses, aides, and other hospice workers.  It is a word I hear uttered over and over.  Perhaps it is a goal second only to comfort.  What is this dignity they strive so mightily to impart to those special patients who fall under their care? 

A new custom has found its way into the hearts of caring staff at the Rainey Hospice House.  A custom that bears out this gift of dignity upon those they serve.

Making my nest on the grounds among these amazing and compassionate people, I have witnessed the dignity with which they treat those at the time of death.  I have witnessed it often, in fact, and I have been proud of what I see.  But this is something new.  Something deliberate.  

At the time of death, a loving and caring hospice worker has retrieved The Quilt and draped the patient with it.  As the patient is escorted down the hall, each and every staff member has stopped to stand at attention.  It is a beautiful demonstration of respect. An outward display of dignity.  So simple.  So…, well…, so dignified.