As I drove up to the hospice facility for the first time, I thought hospice care was solely about the patient in the bed, their experience, their needs, and what I can focus on to care for them adequately. My experience with the Athena program changed my unidimensional mindset to say the least.
Upon receiving my first volunteer assignment, I initially presumed that I would just be interacting with the direct patient at the hospice facility itself. I remember my initial shock when my volunteer coordinator provided me with the details of the patient’s family, informing me about how I was responsible for communicating with them, discussing my intentions to volunteer, and deciding a schedule. While phone calls with family members can be viewed as something so miniscule, the 5-10 minutes I would spend introducing myself and touching base were some of the most transformative experiences of my life. It was on these phone calls that I understood how carefully they balanced caretaking responsibilities with their own occupation and familial life. It was on these phone calls I understood how much time they would devote and sacrifice to being by their loved one’s side. It was on these phone calls I understood that the declining nature of their loved one was taking a toll on them mentally. Communicating with family members made me understand that as a hospice volunteer, I am not just responsible for the wellbeing and comfort of their loved one, but can also act as a pillar of support for the loved one as well. Athena opened my eyes to the fact that the caretaker can often be overlooked and showed me how to effectively bridge that gap to make sure they receive adequate support too.
Unfortunately, I didn’t interact with a specific patient for a prolonged period of time, I would volunteer at two hospice centers as a general volunteer and meet specific patients at times. Tasks often included assessing patient comfort, giving them water, asking nurses if any help was needed at the front desk or if the pantry was fully stocked. While my patient interactions were limited, I learned how community was a pillar at these hospice centers, from the receptionist at the front desk, to the cooks in the cafeteria, to the relentless nurses. All of them work in harmony to ensure the best outcomes for the patient. Yet, one of my interactions with a patient deeply inspired me. “Ms. Yellow” was so full of life, contrary to what hospice care is often connoted as. “Ms. Yellow” went out of the way to get to know me and my fellow volunteer, asking how they could help us when in reality we were there to help them. This display of generosity and kindness deeply resonated with me, whether it was confusion or not, this patient was putting others first. “Ms. Yellow” showed me how it is never too late, too difficult, or too upsetting of a circumstance to put others first and value the little things in life. I haven’t interacted with this patient since, but I take “Ms. Yellow’s” optimism and conscientiousness and try to implement it into my life daily.
My hospice experience has expanded the boundaries of what I defined as hospice care. Now, I see it as a network of diligent nurses, tireless volunteers, supportive loved ones, and optimistic patients. This broader outlook of hospice care has made me further understand Atul Gawande’s mission of how doing “nothing interventionary” for a patient can be valuable for their well-being and their network, despite doctors’ fix-it tendencies. As I prepare for medical school, I will continue to approach medicine from a comprehensive lens, understanding that there are vital components beyond the bedside including the patient’s network, hospice facility communities, and their well-being that I can directly impact to aid in their quality of life.