Giving the Gift of Stories

The Hospice nurse arrived on a snowy morning. Her name was Missy. The hour-long drive took a bit longer this day. Six inches of snow plays havoc on an early morning commute, but she would not be deterred.

My mother-in-law was reclined in her chair, trying to reposition herself to find that sweet spot where pain didn’t overtake all else. This has been a tough few months for her. At the age of 91, maintaining quality of life amidst chronic and debilitating pain has become challenging. It was time for comfort care.

Any in-home nursing care meets patients surrounded by their own story. Missy sat with us in this family room where life revolves for my mother-in-law. The knitting project rested just beside the arm of her recliner. The portable radio was tuned to her favorite talk radio channel. Pillows supported her neck just right, and the self-made afghan covered her legs. Needlepoint masterpieces were scattered throughout the room. This was my mother-in-law’s turf. Missy observed and took in. In a hospital, patients might be defined by a diagnosis or room number; but not here. The surroundings made a statement about who my mother-in-law is.

Before any of us got to the business of medical care, conversation was easy and stories were told. My mother-in-law recounted her history of battling cancer not once, but twice. She talked about her children, her grandchildren, her great-grandchildren and how, until recently, trips to the grocery store and knitting projects provided the stuff of abundant life.

Missy listened, her twinkling eyes betrayed the smile behind her mask. Soon, we were hearing about her story; quite relevant. Way too young, Missy was diagnosed with cancer. Chemotherapy and brain radiation left her fighting for survival. Missy’s experience also ignited a desire to become a nurse so that she could care for others in this unique space of navigating struggle. Thirteen years later, she brings her history of pain and challenge forward as a Hospice nurse. In my mother-in-law’s family room, Missy brought calm and reassurance.

As a former Hospice nurse, I know very well the opportunity to share sacred space with patients. Designing a plan for relief and reassurance is a good thing for everyone, but especially for those who are suffering. I remember well the gratification I felt after visiting my patients. I also remember feeling the personal release of worry and angst when Hospice came on board to craft care for both my parents.

All of us are defined by our stories. Whether we like it or not, we carry our journey in all we do. For Missy, her triumph over cancer led her to nursing; the opportunity to care for others then led her to my mother-in-law’s living room. Our travelled roads mean something. For many, the capacity to listen is heightened. It’s important to have listening ears, especially during times when there are many more questions than answers. The spirit of Hospice is balm for the unknown.

For my mother-in-law, who’s been such a stalwart steward of life, Missy’s presence provided confidence that her pain could be managed with reverence. Her parting gift to all of us, and especially my mother-in-law, was a bit more space to breath deeper. Our family is already overcome with gratitude for the Hospice caregivers who meet my mother-in-law where she is. Likewise, our family is grateful for the opportunity to share time with the matriarch we all love so much. Her grit tells me she has a few more chapters to tell. Thanks to Hospice, all we need to do is just listen.