When I was nearing the end of middle school, my grandfather was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. At first, I did not really comprehend what that meant. I knew symptoms of the disease and had heard of it before, but I did not foresee how it would affect me and my family. Watching my grandfather’s condition slowly deteriorate was heartbreaking, and it was even more difficult to watch my father and his siblings interact with him when he clearly did not recognize them. As he lost touch with reality over the years, I remember wondering what was happening inside his brain. Now a senior in college, I better understand the pathophysiology underlying his symptoms, but that does not make this loss any easier.
This experience prompted me to volunteer at the local hospice homes during college. In addition to serving as an escape from the stresses of school and a chance to get off campus, volunteering has been a truly humbling experience that has grounded me and made me appreciate the little things in life. I am able to use my experience watching my grandfather deteriorate to better understand how to bring comfort and joy to those who know medicine no longer is a viable option as well as their families. Often, the patients have accepted their fate, and I can provide reassurance and reflect with them on their lives. In turn, I have learned so much from each interaction. I have come to realize that at the end of the day, many of my academic stressors are insignificant in the grand scheme of life and that enjoying time with those around me is so much more valuable.
One theme that will stick with me is how grateful the patients on hospice are for every small detail in life. From discussing books to admiring pieces of wrapping paper used as decoration around the holidays, each conversation reminds me why I want to commit to a lifetime of working with people. A particular experience that evidenced this motif is the way John greets me every week. When I walk into his room, he immediately perks up, grins, and shouts, “A few more years have been pumped into me because of your smiles. God bless you.” Regardless of my mood upon entering the room, his humility and graciousness never fail to bring a smile to my face and remind me of the importance of what I am doing. Though he acknowledges that he is ready to go, he is always grateful to see me and the other volunteers and attempts to pass down his wisdom.
As I pursue a career in medicine, an important takeaway for me is that medicine was not designed to conquer death at all costs; rather, medicine is intended to help, but at some point it might not be the option that affords the most benefits, and at that time, it is okay to let go. When that time comes, it is important to accept the fact that we are not immortal and recognize the beauty of fleeting moments. My time volunteering at hospice has enhanced my perspective on the importance of patient interactions and taught me the significance of accepting the transience of human existence.