It was my first experience at the Senior Living Facility. I was excited to finally meet a patient after learning about the intricacies of hospice. I walked up to “David’s” room to find the room empty. The bed was stripped, but all of the belongings were still there. Confused, I went to the front desk to ask where David would be. Thinking he might be at lunch or watching Sunday Football. But I was informed that David passed away that Friday. This had a resounding impact on me; with so much preparation as well as anticipation, it was all unfortunately crushed. This reinforced the notion that death can occur at any moment; it wasn’t going to wait for me to do my hospice visits and learn about David’s life as a teacher or that he loved 40s and 50s music. Instead, it had me feeling hollow, unable to hear those stories or build that relationship.
After this quick lesson in my hospice volunteer journey, I began to realize that death in our society is looked at as something negative and must be prevented at all costs, which is something that I prehistorically aligned with. After reading the various supplemental lessons throughout the program, I learned that death is a natural and normal process that happens to everyone. The body enters a state that wants more sleep, wants to eat less, and becomes weaker. The body knows how to die, and although it is very sad, it is a beautiful process that we, as future physicians, must understand how to maneuver based on our training and our influential past experiences in hospice. Knowing that we have the tools to assess if prevention and treatment is no longer the best option and comfort becomes the shifting priority.
Although my initial patient’s death had a profound effect, follow-up patients have presented equally powerful lessons and stories. “Joe”, whom I have gotten to know for several months, has been a true blessing in my life. His battle with Parkinson’s and Diabetes has drastically altered his daily way of life, and he has taught me so much regarding patient care. Joe’s illness typically causes speech difficulty and confusion. Some visits are uniquely rewarding when he’s oriented and affectionately talks about his family. At other times, he’ll mistake his reflection for an intruder, which is difficult in itself. Learning to manage these extremes has been worth its weight in gold to my patient care skills, which have already been impactful in my career as an EMT, especially when assisting elderly patients who have fallen and are confused or shaken.
My experience as a hospice volunteer for the Athena program has been life-altering. Not only has it taught me to have a greater empathy for patients, but it has challenged me to find my spirituality. It has strengthened my commitment to patient care, not treatment which cures the body but also the soul of patients, and even more deeply increased my passion for human beings and personal growth as a future physician.