When I first told my friends and family that I was going to volunteer at a hospice through this program, they all told me that this was probably the worst experience for me to have. They all said I was too sensitive and that I would not be able to separate what I felt at hospice with my emotions at other times. It would affect me too much. However, they were all shocked when after my first few visits, I came home completely fine.
Then I met Mary. I realized that I had not connected with any patient like I had with her. She suffered from Parkinson’s disease and had recently fallen and gotten injured. Despite her ailment, she was so lively and kind. She loved when I would come visit and would tell me about her family and what life was like growing up. Besides talking, we would look at magazines, watch cooking shows, and play small games. I absolutely loved talking to her and I developed an emotional attachment when I left. That same day I had also learned that another patient, Dave, who I had talked to the previous week had died a few days after I had visited him. When the nurse told me he had passed away, I felt sad but not overly emotional.
However, after meeting Mary I was so scared that she, like Dave, might not be there the next week. I was terrified that she would pass away and I would not get the chance to talk to her again. That was the first time I cried after volunteering. It took me a while to realize that even if I did not see her again, it would be okay. Even through her hardships, she was happy, had lived an extremely full life, and most of all, she had no regrets. Mary taught me that the only way to live life was to live with no regrets. She made me want to call my parents more, have more meaningful relationships with my friends, and end toxic relationships. Meeting her also helped me better separate my emotions so that I would be less affected every time I left the hospice. Even though it hurts me to see the pain a lot of them had to go through, I still know I am doing my part and helping them as much as I can and I should be happy I can do at least that much.
Separating my emotions also helped me better explore the role of hospice in medicine and why dying can be okay. Too often doctors feel that broaching the topic of hospice is like admitting failure and should be something to be treated with shame and avoided. In my opinion, if you reach a point where suggesting new treatments and surgeries will do very little to improve their condition but will deteriorate their quality of life, it is time to be honest with your patient about the extent of what is possible. A doctor should not consider success as whether or not the patient survived because death is inevitable and at some point, every doctor will lose that battle. A doctor should consider success to be dependent on how much they improved their quality of life. If a treatment can cure a person’s disease then that doctor greatly improved that person’s quality of life, but if treatments/surgeries will not do much for them, then openly talking about hospice gives that doctor another way to improve their patient’s quality of life. This idea of success is something I will carry with me throughout medical school and throughout my years practicing medicine. It will guide me to a more compassionate method of practicing medicine where valuing the fullness of a life with no regrets is just as important as conventional treatments. It will help me and others see the world as Mary does, grateful for the life she has lived instead of always wishing for something more.