How Hospice Changed My Perspective on Death and Dying in Medicine

Before my hospice experience, the only way I could conceptualize death and dying was through images of hospital rooms, death, and loss. I accepted death as natural, but it had a sense of sterility, and in the medical sense, I, like many, tied death to defeat.

Over the course of my hospice experience, I have encountered so many different experiences of dying. The opportunity to talk to and comfort end-of-life patients has made me realize how much we avoid the realities of death. I was surprised to see that these patients, though it may seem obvious, have retained their personalities, cognitive functions, and emotions, despite some not being able to communicate. They are still people who can be cared for, not just bodies on the verge of death, but our culture of avoiding this topic has dehumanized the process. However, death and dying are arguably the most human experiences.

I cannot choose one meaningful hospice relationship, as almost every interaction I have had carries significance in shaping my understanding of death and dying. This has taught me that death is different for everyone and that there is no “handbook” to follow when caring for dying patients. It is an experience of connection between humans distilled down to the observation and acceptance of one single fact of life: death. To get over the taboo of this subject is to realize that death is not always the enemy and that a dying person is no less of a person. People near end of life continue to feel, think, worry, etc … their needs continue to exist and there is still so much more we can provide for them.

There was a patient I was able to visit multiple times. At first, I did not know how our conversation helped her in any way as she seemed very at peace with her situation. One week, she started coloring and gave me her pictures; it gave her something to do and a purpose as she knew these pictures meant a lot to those who received them. One day, she told me her condition was worse and that she was nervous. She told me that my presence and conversation helped. I was able to be what she needed.

And then there was a patient who I was only able to meet once. When I first walked into her room, she was in pain, confused, and distressed. She was not able to speak coherently, so I asked yes or no questions. I read to her, found out what music she liked, and played it for her. She calmed down and was communicating calmly with me by the end of the visit. It is one of the most rewarding experiences I have ever had.

It came down to what I could do in the hour or two I was there. If I was able to bring a moment of calm or peace, it was worth it. I learned that for these patients, the future is viewed very differently. It did not matter that I could not provide a cure to their sickness because at this point, opposing death was no longer the battle. What I could provide was the best that any other person could: comfort, company, and care.

I am a pre-med student because I want to help others and love connecting with people. My hospice work has only re-affirmed that medicine is what I want to pursue. Not only does medicine and healthcare deal with preventing and treating sickness, but it is the personalized care for a patient that does not end where modern medicine stops. It has to confront death not as defeat because sick people are not just bodies that need treatment.

Now, my conceptions of death and dying are multi-faceted. It is the acknowledgement of a person as still a person who is journeying towards the end of life. The way we deal with this journey is critical to the experience of end- of-life patients and the emotional health of their loved ones. Death is not so foreign and distant. Nor does its acceptance mean that we have given up. My hospice work has given me another perspective on medicine and showed me how important it is to remember that death happens constantly as a reminder of our mortality, the nature of our lives, and what it means to be human.