As a hospice volunteer with the Athena Institute, I’ve had many valuable realizations as a premed student and just as an understanding person moving forward in my career. Many aspects of this experience enlightened me to new ways of thinking about and understanding people that I haven’t been exposed to before in my life.
A moment that stuck out to me as particularly moving was my first meeting with my patient, Virginia. I was really nervous to be working with hospice patients for the first time, so I dressed up in nicer clothing and prepared my little introduction for what I was going to say over and over again on the car ride over. After hours of preparation through this program, I felt ready to combat any situation that was thrown at me. When I walked into her room to introduce myself, she was upright in her wheelchair facing the door. The look of surprise and excitement in her eyes immediately indicated to me that she doesn’t get many visitors. I soothingly greeted her, as her confused eyes analyzed me, a young college-aged girl, and she held out her hand for me to take. Her smile sprawled from ear to ear as I told her that I was there to spend the afternoon with her.
In the back of my mind, my thoughts raced with fear and sadness that I was encountering a woman with death so near. She had been in a car accident a few weeks prior and her kidneys were damaged. As I kept thinking about it, I could feel my smile wearing down and my heart sinking deeper in my chest. But Virginia’s smile did not wear down. She continued to ask me question after question about my life, my major, if I had a husband or kids, and about my favorite things to do. Every time I tried to ask her about her life or her experiences, she immediately reversed the conversation into more questions about me. She took her weak hand and put it on mine when she sensed I was getting a little emotional. She said, “I’ve lived a great life. I am strong. Now tell me about your boyfriends.” I immediately started laughing. A sense of realization and gratefulness overwhelmed me. This was the moment that I knew that this was all worth it. I knew that something as little as my presence or companionship could help someone take their minds off their own hardships and put a smile on their face. Such a small moment meant so much to me.
As a pre-med student, I’ve felt almost helpless since I’m not qualified to actually medically assist people, when all I want to do with my life is to help others. This experience provided me with a way to immerse myself in a situation where I could help—with just my words and presence—someone feel positivity or happiness. This was an unforgettable moment for me and verified my willingness to pursue medicine even further, especially within the geriatric community.