Every time I tell people I volunteer at a hospice, I get the same reaction. People are always asking me, “Isn’t that sad?” or “How can you do that?” I can never quite explain to people why my volunteering doesn’t make me depressed or cause me to fear my own mortality. I think people are reluctant to understand because accepting death is against human nature. People want to live, thrive and be happy, and the thought of saying bye to a loved one is one of the scariest scenarios a person can imagine. I am not trying to say that people have it wrong, or that death is not a scary process, but when we embrace death we can bring dignity and compassion to those who need it most.
I was once finishing a visit with a new patient and had a representative from Seasons with me because I was meeting the gentleman for the first time. A woman overheard us discussing hospice and came over to us. She explained that her father had just been diagnosed with a terminal illness and was wondering what she could do to make the best of his life. The answer from the woman with me forever changed my perspective of death and cemented my belief that every person should have access to hospice care. She said that hospice was all about eliminating as much pain as possible from the final stages of life. I already knew this in a physical sense; it was one of the reasons that I joined in the first place. What I had never really comprehended, until that moment, was that hospice does not just eliminate physical pain. There is an emotional security provided for patients, but there is also an equally important emotional security provided to the friends, relatives, and loved ones of a patient in need. This is why I believe people should place huge value on the work of hospice agencies across the country. Hospice may not cure anyone, but it imparts a lasting relief and comfort onto families who are losing a loved one, and that is a concept which doesn’t strike me as ‘sad’ or ‘depressing’ at all.
My first exposure to hospice care came while riding on an ambulance as part of my EMT training. We were called to transfer a hospice patient, very close to death, from their hospital room to a nicer and more peaceful hospice facility in order to provide a dignified, pain free death. The son of the patient rode with us in the back of the ambulance, and we talked for the whole 15 minute ride between the facilities. It was a difficult conversation; the son was on the verge of tears the whole time, and I was very inexperienced in such matters, meaning I had to struggle to keep my emotions in check. The son spent a lot of time reminiscing about the past, telling stories of childhood and his young adult years, trying hard to keep his composure while the rest of his family followed us in a car. At the end of the trip, after the patient had been safely delivered to his new room, the EMT training me turned to me and said, “That conversation was something he really needed.” That was the moment I realized that hospice care was not just a place for someone to go and die, but a place that provides a support that nothing else can quite match. In allowing a loved one to die comfortably, we not only allow the patient the peaceful death they deserve, but give loved ones a license to live on unburdened, and to me that will always be invaluable.