I spent most of my time throughout the hospice volunteer program with my patient Johanna and her husband Jonathan, whom she lived with in an apartment in a facility. Early on in my visits with her, Johanna always greeted me with a smile and hug and usually complimented my appearance. She was very quick-witted, often making jokes about her childhood or poking fun at her husband Jonathan whom she loved dearly. She frequently talked about her children who had died about 10 years prior and how sad she had been since then. No matter how sad or how hard aspects of her life had been, she had a saying: She could sit there and cry, but if she did then, she’d be crying forever. So instead, she chooses to smile and be happy and thankful for what she does have.
As my time with her progressed, her ability to walk and speak became increasingly diminished. My visits with her became more filled with me reading to her, and it felt like more of my role shifted to being supportive of Jonathan who was clearly exhausted by the process. I would hold Johanna’s hand while Jonathan told me stories of their life together, and how bad he felt for Johanna in her current state. Both of them were clearly becoming tired by the process, but not particularly afraid. In his stories about Johanna, he clearly had an appreciation for the time that they had together, but when he talked of her potential passing, he didn’t speak with fear, just relief. He loved her and he didn’t want to see her suffer anymore.
This program is a tremendously valuable experience for medical school. Through this program, I have learned what it means to die a dignified death. Death is a natural part of life, and as a practitioner, I feel that I will now know what it means to put a patient’s wishes first in terms of not only how they want to live, but how they want to die. Death is not always a failing on the part of the physician, and I know that when I practice medicine, I will think about what is best for my patient in terms of what gives them the best quality of life in their time of death. I won’t push them through harsh treatments that take away what makes their life good just because I don’t want to feel like I’ve failed. Allowing someone to die the death that they want, with whoever they want, and where they want can be a healing experience.
Prior to this experience, I had limited but informative experiences with hospice care as my grandfather had been on hospice and passed in our home when I was in the 7th grade. During that experience, the staff’s kindness was incredibly meaningful to me and inspired me to join this program. But my experience did not necessarily encourage me to think about death. It was still a difficult subject to talk about at such a young age, and we avoided the topic around the house to not upset my grandmother. However, this experience has given me an appreciation of how my grandfather was allowed to die: with dignity and in a place he was comfortable, surrounded by people he loved. I am thankful for this experience and want to give it to others as well. I realize that if I want to be able to do this for other people, death is something that needs to be discussed, and I now feel more comfortable talking about it.
My hospice experience has reinforced my sense of vocation for the medical profession. This program has opened my eyes to how poor current medical professionals are at discussing death. It’s completely changed my outlook on how I hope to practice medicine, and made me reconsider the goals of medical care and different ways that I may not have otherwise considered to put the patient first.