I see “Ms. Rose” every Tuesday afternoon. I have visited her for 18 weeks now. In the beginning, I was nervous because it’s not easy constantly having to re-introduce yourself and get to know the same person differently every week. Now, however, it’s second nature, and I look forward to seeing her every week. When I went home for Thanksgiving or Winter break, I found myself thinking about her, wondering what she was doing, and if she still remembered me.
When I first visited “Ms. Rose”, I would bring my sketchbook, colored pencils, or puzzles for us to do together. Now, we often sit in comfortable silence, content with our natural conversations. I know what prompts will encourage her to talk. I know her momentary bouts of silence are normal, and I know she loves observing her neighbors. I know that she is far too kind and will say yes to watching a movie she doesn’t want to or accept a cupcake she will never eat, all because she hates to disappoint people. I have discovered these things about “Ms. Rose”, not because she is a patient I am assigned to, but because she is someone I enjoy spending time with.
Sometimes, when “Ms. Rose” talks about her dog Pepper or her family trips to Disney World, I see a sparkle in her eye, and I know she is reliving her most beautiful memories. One day in particular stands out. She said, “Whatever you do, do something that matters, and do it well. Stick with it, because it might be hard, but do something that matters, and do something you love. You don’t have to figure things out right away. Try new stuff, see what you like, but make sure you keep learning, and do what matters.” She said this and quickly moved on to another topic.
This message stuck with me because she said something in three sentences that most people can’t articulate in their entire lives. So am I helping “Ms. Rose”, or is she helping me? I joined this program to help hospice patients, but it has graciously brought me a dear friend instead.
Therefore, what I have learned through hospice is humanity. Hospice is not easy to handle, and it is not for the faint-hearted, but it is a side of medicine every physician should be capable of handling. Physicians often see themselves as the barriers between life and death, yet death is inevitable. No matter how hard we try or how many innovations we find, coming to terms with death is vital to leading a healthy life. Recognizing the humanity in death is crucial. Understanding that acknowledging death does not diminish anyone—neither patient nor physician—is key to providing compassionate care.
Throughout my visits, I have become more aware of death. “Ms. Rose” is still alive and well, but knowing that her time will come and learning to work through those emotions every week is just as important in medicine as finding the solution to an illness. It has been a journey about building faith and recognizing my limitations.
Ultimately, as an aspiring physician, these visits have solidified my career goal and prompted me to work harder in my academics and extracurriculars. Seeing “Ms. Rose” has given me a sense of purpose—to advocate for individuals who struggle to advocate for themselves and to give them a sense of autonomy. I now want to be a healthcare provider who takes a proactive role in my patients’ lives, regardless of their medical outcome, ensuring they know they are heard and seen. Working with “Ms. Rose” has taught me the care and gentleness required to interact with my future patients and, regardless of their condition, to treat them with dignity.