Uncomfortable Visit

During my last visit with Mrs. G., she was very agitated. I explained what happened in my volunteer visit report. It is below: 

Mrs. G was awake and sitting in the living room when I arrived. Alex asked me to read to her so I did. While I read, he made her some toast with peanut butter on it. I read while she ate. Alex was in and out, doing other things around the house. I was reading along when I heard her plate clatter to the floor and I looked up. She looked like she had purposefully pushed it off her tray. I picked it up and asked her if she wanted me to stop reading. She said nothing. 

After a minute she asked me, "What are you doing here?" 

I said, "I'm Hannah. I'm the volunteer from Mission Hospice." 

"Why are you here?" she asked. 

"I'm here to spend time with you for a few hours." 

She said nothing but looked confused, so I said, "I'm giving A a break for a couple hours tonight so he can get a few things done." 

She said nothing. I wasn't sure what to do. I tried reading to myself for a few pages but Alex came in and asked his mom if it was okay if I read to her. She said nothing. 

He said, "C'mon, just give us an answer." 

But she didn't. He had me move to her other side and then asked me to read again which I did. After a few paragraphs, Mrs. G threw her water bottle off her tray, sending her pills flying. I picked up the pills and A picked up the water bottle. He seemed embarrassed and a bit apologetic about his mother's behavior. I practiced being a non-anxious presence and was aware of my own codependent tendencies and desire to somehow make everything okay for everyone. 

But the truth is, nothing was okay. Here he is, a faithful adult son, stressed out with no time for himself, whose beloved mother is dying. Not only that but it seems that she has some kind of dementia because she wasn't behaving normally. I just took three deep breaths and held my tongue.   
After a moment, he said he was going to pick up the dry cleaning and could I continue to try to read to her. I agreed, of course. While he was gone, I read aloud but I would stop and checkin with Mrs. G to see if she wanted me to continue, if she liked the story. She never answered my questions. I wasn't sure what was going on. I tried to engage her in conversation about her family and I pointed out several family photos on the walls and what looked like a nice photo of her deceased husband. She looked at the photos but never responded. I tried reading to her again. 

She started saying his name, "A, A" repeatedly while I read. 
  
I said, "He's gone out to do an errand but he'll be back soon. Can I help you with anything?" 

She just kept softly calling for him. I wasn't sure she heard me so I put my hand on her shoulder and said, "He's not here right now." 

She flicked my hand away so I got the message that she didn't want to be touched. I tried telling her again that he was just out picking up dry cleaning. She continued to say his name and rattle her tray, trying to get his attention. I asked her a few times if I could help her with anything, if I could get her anything, but she didn't respond. As we waited for him to return, her forehead grew creased and she seemed to be in mild distress. I wondered if she had to go to the bathroom or something. I just tried to be present and non-anxious although I'll admit, I wasn't sure what to do. I just sat quietly and did not read but that didn't help either. 

When A came home, he took one look at her and said, "OK, mom. You want to go to bed, don't you?" 

She said nothing. He took her to the bedroom and said goodbye to me, after he confirmed that he wanted me to come back next week. It was a bizarre visit. 


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It wasn't until I arrived home that I realized how impacted I was by this visit with Mrs. G I had plans to go to a favorite watering hole with my wife and our friend, but I ended up just wanting to stay home and lie on the back deck for a while. It was a nice evening with a cool breeze after a warm day. I just laid there listening to the birds and feeling the wind on my face and arms. My cat came and curled up next to me on one side and my dog laid down on my other side. I felt loved and held. I pondered what had transpired with Mrs. G and A. I was aware of my tendency to take things personally at first. Whenever I would review my actions and what I said and did, I kept at bay the thought that, "maybe, if I had just done or said X instead, she would have responded more positively." It was hard. But I know, through my 12-Step work and my work on codependence, that I am not responsible for making other people happy. I understand that in this role, I am to be a compassionate presence, but it is not up to me to fix anything. And in fact it is not about me. That became my mantra as I waded through the next couple of days. Whenever thoughts about Mrs. G. and our strange visit would come back to me over the weekend, I would say to myself, "It is not about me." 

I received a phone call from my supervisor at Mission Hospice who wanted to check in with me after reading my visit report. She informed me that Mrs. G has a form of dementia, which made everything fall into place. I had suspected as much during my visit but I wasn't sure. I was grateful for the information because it really helped me to understand Mrs. G better. It will also guide my interactions with her in the future. My in-laws have dementia and I've spent considerable time with them. I know it manifests differently in everyone, but I know the basics about how to communicate with dementia patients. Questions can be very hard for them to process. So when A and I were asking Mrs. G repeatedly if she wanted me to read to her, it may have caused her stress and made her unable to answer. 

I am grateful for the support of Mission Hospice and for the loving, safe space I call home. This work is not always easy so the support network for caregivers is critical. This work has taught me that the people in that support group are what's really important. It's people and relationships that matter. Nothing else. And this is it! THIS - sitting with people who are dying, learning to be less codependent, lying on the back deck, waking up in the morning, communicating with coworkers, helping people, loving our family members, cooking, cleaning, doing laundry - THIS is it! I want to live it as well as I can. That is my prayer. Amen. 

Keeping Company with the Dying

I start my weekends by keeping Mrs. G company. Mrs. G is dying. She is a kind woman who has slept through two of our three visits. I mostly sit and read. If she's awake, I read to her or talk with her. I feel connected to her. I pray for her during the week and for her son, A, who is so attentive and loving as he cares for her. 

Keeping company with the dying means being present to them. Mission Hospice says its mission is to provide support for clients so they can have dignity and independence for as long as possible. As a patient care volunteer, I often read, play music on my phone, talk or just sit quietly at the bedside of my patients. I keep them company. I enjoy this work. Like most things in life that are worthwhile, it isn't earth-shattering or stunning. It's quiet, simple and unobtrusive. 

I often feel so much calmer after a visit with a patient than before.  Just sitting quietly for two or three hours can be quite peaceful. My life is so busy and I'm often going here and there for meetings or to visit loved ones or to work or school. It's a gift to be able to sit quietly and not think about my own life for a while. 

The main reason I like this work is that I feel I'm truly helping the caregivers. I know I'm providing much needed relief so they can go grocery shopping or wash their car, or just go into another room and sleep. I'm glad to give six hours a week or so to others. Often these are adult children in their 50s who have very little support in caregiving for their dying parent. They often have full-time jobs, and they are trying to manage care for their dying parent on top of everything else. I'm grateful for the opportunity to help them. And they are grateful for me. Their eyes tell me as I leave, as do their "thank yous" how much they appreciate the break they've received. Just that -- a sincere word of thanks -- does a world of good. It lifts my spirit and buoys me up as I return home to my family. 

This interaction, this brief exchange of gratitude, is so simple, and yet it brings happiness in general. I find that I have more patience for others. I don't get as flustered by life's inconveniences. I am kinder to people -- family, friends, strangers, customer service representatives -- because really our energy in this present moment, is all we have and I'd rather spend it in kindness and patience than anger or irritation. I'd rather treat people, animals, plants, the earth, and moments with kindness, gentleness and love than run roughshod over them to arrive at the end of my life -- or any moment of my life -- and find that I'm friendless because I've been a poor friend. Or that I have plenty of things but no one to share them with because I wasn't attentive to others as I acquired these things. 

Relationships are the heart of life. As Christians we are called into community with others. We aren't really Christians without community. It's only in relationship to others that we see our own strengths and weaknesses and work on them. We make mistakes and we mess up. We ask for forgiveness and we give it freely to others. This is how we fully live. 

I'm grateful that keeping company with the dying has taught me that.