Death and fear are two words that quite often occupy the same sentence, but where does this fear of death come from? From the day we are born, the world we live in teaches us to fear death. We avoid talking about death. We refrain from actions that may cause death. We do everything we can to push off death. And yet, this state inevitably prevails for all of us, since it is as essential to the human experience as life itself. For this reason, it is necessary to attempt to understand death and dying better and begin to appreciate them. Additionally, it is even more important to understand the role of medicine, a field with the goal of “healing,” in death and the dying process.
Hospice care can challenge the typical perception of the role of medicine. Here, the focus of care often shifts from one of “treating” and “curing” to making someone more comfortable and helping them cope with the process of dying. However, this can be difficult because all patients have different life experiences, expectations, and perceptions on death. As a result, building individual relationships during this time can be so meaningful. I began my journey as a hospice volunteer with this in mind and hoped to build my own meaningful relationships with my patients.
At the beginning of this program, I had limited knowledge of what hospice care was and what my role as a volunteer would be. I knew that it would most likely be a challenging experience and that I might be uncomfortable at times. However, what drove me to join this program was a desire to build meaningful relationships and to better understand this process of death that will eventually effect some of my future patients. The video “Being Mortal” furthered my desire to participate, as it made me aware of how unprepared patients and physicians are when faced with death and hospice care. Thus, I began volunteering with an open mind and a desire to play my role to the best of my ability.
Building a relationship with my first patient was definitely challenging, but it was an integral part of my hospice experience that aided in my understanding of dying and the differences that exist between us all. My patient, Liz, rarely interacted, was confined to the bed, and would often fall asleep during visits. During the first few visits, Liz’s husband was also present, and he enthusiastically shared photographs and details about the life they had lived together. This helped me understand the person she truly was and the changes that had occurred in her life. Once he stopped visiting, it was difficult to know what the patient wanted from our visits, and whether she wanted us there at all. We would read and watch TV, but often received no feedback on whether Liz wanted to take part. This forced me to change my expectations, and to understand that sometimes companionship is all you can provide to someone.
This relationship also helped me see death more as a process and less as an event. With each visit, the interactions would get shorter, and it was clear that Liz was less engaged. Before this experience, I had always thought of death as the exact second when one’s life ended, but I never thought of the slow changes that would lead up to this event. Coming out of this experience, I feel that I have a broader understanding of what death means, what it means to build a relationship, and the differences in how each person deals with this process of dying.