Over the past year, I have had the pleasure of interacting with a couple of patients and their families in the Hospice program. Of all the meaningful conversations I had, I will never forget one family member. For privacy reasons, I will refer to him as “Ben” in this paper. “Ben’s” wife had ovarian cancer and had recently been put on Hospice when I got the assignment. He was her caregiver and only accepted help from Hospice workers. Immediately, I felt connected to them both because, not only had I lost an aunt to ovarian cancer, but I was also the caregiver for my grandfather who had recently passed while on Hospice.
When I first called “Ben”, he was in the garage and was nervous about being away from his wife. We didn’t talk for long, and our calls stayed short to ease his anxiety about his full attention not being on his wife. During that call “Ben” spoke about he and his wife’s story, about his life (he was a trucker like my dad – this was a great ice breaker), and about his wife’s diagnosis. You could hear and feel the love he had for his wife through the phone. He presented himself as a straight shooter and wanted to be clear that he just wanted to help anyone that was in a similar situation. His willingness to be involved and general ability to be candid about the situation allowed for a really interesting and meaningful learning experience.
When his wife passed, “Ben” and I spoke for a couple hours. It was a very honest and emotional conversation. We compared our experiences as a Hospice caregiver, what it was like to be with them in their last second, and the overwhelming grief and feelings of responsibility that come with being in that position. We validated each other in this conversation and as much healing as I offered, he returned. This mutual respect and trust we had was very unique for talking to someone you’ve never met. We know nothing more than what we had told each other yet were able to talk deeply about our personal struggles, fears, and experiences. I think this created an almost anonymous environment where it was easy to be vulnerable. Even though it wasn’t ideal or what anyone promoted/signed up for, being a phone call volunteer is what gave me this opportunity and allowed for this environment.
This program was my first real exposure to patient relations. This program allowed me to gain experience in talking to, and being a primary contact of, patients and family members of patients, which is a unique experience. Especially in a relatively misunderstood sector of medicine. Hospice has a bad reputation to most people and being able to be a part of that was very eye-opening. I had a bad personal experience with Hospice when I was my grandfather’s caregiver, so I was skeptical about working with one. However, I’ve gained a real appreciation for the system after witnessing people with good experiences, talking to people who are thankful for it, and putting aside my personal issues. This experience has been invaluable to me.
This experience wasn’t easy for me. After recently losing my favorite person while taking care of him, I was nervous about subjecting myself to more devastating stories. To be honest, it was incredibly challenging the entire time, but I am so happy that I did it. It reminded me why I wanted to pursue medicine: I offered patients and families relief, an outlet, a distraction – I helped people heal, and in the process helped myself heal, and I could never ask for anything more.