During my time volunteering at my hospice care site, specifically in the memory care unit, one of my most meaningful patient relationships was with a woman I will call “Eleanor” (this is a pseudonym). “Eleanor” lived in the memory care unit and had significant difficulty communicating verbally, she could only ever get a few words out at a time, and her speech was incredibly soft, basically a whisper. Although speech was challenging for her, and understanding her was quite difficult at times, she expressed herself in other ways, while speech was difficult, she would often hum the same melody or song when we would visit, me and my fellow volunteers were never able to identify the exact song, but it was definitely the same melody. During many of my visits, I would sit with her during dinner and help as needed while she ate. These visits were simple, yet they became some of the most impactful moments of my hospice experience.
Because “Eleanor” struggled to communicate clearly, our interactions required patience and careful attention. I usually had to really slow down and rely on body language and facial expressions rather than words alone. At first, I underestimated how difficult it would be to communicate with patients who cannot easily express their needs or thoughts. Sitting with “Eleanor” taught me that communication in healthcare extends far beyond spoken language. Waiting patiently, observing subtle cues, and allowing space for someone to express themselves can be just as important as asking questions or giving instructions. One of the most memorable aspects of our visits was the way “Eleanor” responded to music. Even when conversation was difficult, humming or softly singing seemed to bring her comfort. Sometimes I would hum along with her, and in those moments, it felt as if she felt she was truly understood. These small interactions reminded me that care does not always involve medical interventions; sometimes it simply involves presence and patience.
After winter break, I was expecting to pick back up with the visits and see “Eleanor.” Instead, I received an email informing volunteers that she had passed away. Reading that message was deeply saddening. I felt a sense of regret that I had not been able to see her one more time. This experience gave me a real sense of what hospice care involves. Even though saying goodbye is inevitable, the focus on comfort, dignity, and the relationships you form leave a lasting impact. My experience with “Eleanor” also reinforced ideas discussed in the documentary Being Mortal. The film emphasizes that the point of medicine isn’t only about prolonging life, but also about preserving the quality of life and honoring the patient’s wishes and what they value. In the hospice unit, the priority wasn’t aggressive treatment, but making sure patients were comfortable and supported. Watching families visit their loved ones also showed me how deeply illness affects not only patients, but everyone who cares about them.
Through volunteering in hospice, I definitely noticed that I developed more patience and I gained a deeper appreciation for how important human connection is in medicine. I was really able to see the effect that simply being present with a patient, especially during difficult or vulnerable moments, has on them. These experiences strengthened my desire to pursue a career in medicine. They reminded me that being a good physician is not just about diagnosing and treating disease, but also about listening to patients, showing compassion, and understanding the person behind the illness.