Leading up to May 2007, I had worked in a variety of nursing areas. I have worked in long-term care facilities, Peds, PICU, NICU, PASU, ICF/MR, SDC, OPS, and Endo. Wow, there are a lot of abbreviations in the world of medicine. I made the decision to step out of management and into the world of Hospice.
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Now I wasn't just stepping back into a direct care role on "the floor" of Med/Surg. No, I took a role as a field nurse in an area considered taboo by even the best nurses.
Most nurses cringe when hearing that name with the usual remark, "I could never work there. It takes a special person to work in that area."
Yes, I accepted the job and began working the first week of May 2007 in none other than Hospice. I chose Hospice because it really was nothing like what I had worked in the past. I thought it would get me out of the hospital walls and the headache of management.
I had worked in community health nursing in the past an enjoyed the autonomy it allowed. The time for private thought and traveling farther than the bathroom or the cafeteria was oddly appealing to me. It even seemed weird to say but I thought after working in management I owed it back to the direct care nurse to put my hands to the grindstone, a philosophy I appreciated as a floor nurse and held myself to as the coordinator. I looked forward to giving of myself to my patients. What I have gotten from my patients, however, has left me often feeling like the receiver instead of the giver.
Hospice: A Never-Ending Experience
In a nutshell, the Hospice philosophy is to provide the patient with the best quality of life for as long as the patient is alive. That sentence doesn't give Hospice justice, but this article isn't about what we as nurses can do for the patient. This article is about what the nurse takes away from the experience.
Call me the eternal optimist, but in a world where gray clouds loom and joy gets robbed with every heartbeat, I believe God provides a silver lining. In the realm of a dying person, there are always treasures to uncover. I never imagined how a job taking care of others in their greatest time of need could give back so much. Sure, every day I see a patient and I am reminded that my problems are not life ending. Every moment helping them when they deal with pain or breathing difficulty I thank God my problems are life changing, not life-threatening. Every time a patient dies I know I am blessed to be alive.
Patients Share The Greatest Wisdom
I am amazed when out of the crackling voice of a dying patient comes words of clarity, truth, and strength. When we are not treating, comforting, and answering questions; when our mouths are shut and our ears are open, it is the patient who usually has the greatest wisdom to share.
In providing the best quality of life to a dying person, it is that person who has spoken so much into my life. I find myself driving away from the home speechless at the boldness and profound words that pour out of them. In eight months I am honored that my life has been blessed by my patients. I honor the wisdom, knowledge, and strength of a man, woman, or child who faces the greatest unknown and has made peace with their life. They get it. They understand it. If only we, the non-terminally ill nurse, social worker, therapist, and the doctor could learn to live with that passion and boldness. If only we could learn to live like we were dying. It is that knowledge and wisdom when we listen, that is worth dying for.
