It was a typical Wednesday morning when my 9:00AM alarm went off. “Ugh, do I really have to go today?” I thought to myself, as I knew I would have to volunteer at the hospice later that day. When I arrived at the Center for Acute Hospice Care, the nurses asked me to speak with the patient in room 1. Before entering any patient’s room, I always felt slightly anxious because I did not know what to expect – in terms of the patient’s mood, the progression of their disease, or what to talk to them about. In this case, all I knew was that the patient’s name was Lisa and that she had a brain tumor.
Despite her condition, Lisa was a very joyful and positive person. She immediately opened herself up to me and began cracking jokes. We were having so much fun laughing about nonsensical topics that I did not even realize two hours had gone past. I continued to work with Lisa for the following three weeks, and observed how much her tumor was taking out of her physically. Regardless, personality-wise, she was still the same happy-go-lucky person I had come to admire. Lisa also oftentimes experienced memory lapses due to the tumor. In one of my last weeks with her, she said something that truly struck me and helped me realize the importance of my role as a hospice volunteer. She said, “I have really loved our time together. But I know this tumor will soon make me forget who you are. Regardless, even after I have forgotten, I know our spirits will forever be connected through this friendship we have formed.”
My experience with Lisa made me realize how large of an impact I was making on the life of those I interacted with at the hospice, and completely changed the way I viewed hospice care. In the beginning, I felt uncomfortable speaking to patients. It was difficult for me to talk about death and also to physically see the process of dying on patients’ bodies. Regardless, I learned to put my personal feelings aside and put the patient first. It is true that every patient comes in with a different story, but I realized that there was a single unifying theme amongst them: their desire for human connection. Providing palliative care sometimes meant offering a listening ear, conversing with them to help them navigate their grief, or sitting in silence. I also learned the power of touch when speaking to a patient. I soon began to look forward to my volunteer shifts every Wednesday.
As Atul Gawande said in his book Being Mortal: Illness, Medicine and What Matters in the End, “We’ve been wrong about what our job is in medicine. We think our job is to ensure health and survival. But really it is larger than that. It is to enable well-being.” I resonate with this quote because this hospice experience has altered my understanding of healthcare and medicine. Medicine has given us a remarkable power to push against the biological limits set by our genes and cells. However, there comes a point when medicine often does a patient more damage than benefit. At the end-of-life, it is important for patients to consider quality over quantity of life, and it is the doctor’s responsibility to help them realize their options. Doctors should be more comfortable speaking about death with their patients.
Volunteering at the Hospice of the Piedmont has been an invaluable experience. When I first signed up, I knew I was going to face some very troubling situations, but I did not realize how large of an impact this experience was going to make on my life. I have learned how to practice proper patient bedside manners, strengthened my communication skills, and developed a deep appreciation for palliative care. I am now even considering a career in geriatrics. I also met some of the most inspiring people from this experience, from the nurses to the patients. I am very thankful for the opportunity to have been a part of the Pre-Medical Hospice Volunteer Program.