Thursday Afternoons

In our current society, it is evident that most people are uncomfortable with the topic of death. For a family, it can feel unbearable to let go of a loved one because the terror of the unknown causes them to hold on tighter. For doctors, death means that they did not do their job correctly or that they failed to save a life. As human beings, we fear that we will be alone or that there is no other life after the one we have now. Death in our world holds a negative connotation, but it doesn’t have to. Throughout my hospice experience, I learned that death does not have to be brutally painful and scary; instead, it can be a celebration of someone’s wonderful, full life.

I have had the most meaningful experience with the patient I visit every Thursday afternoon. As soon as they see me, their face lights up the room, which makes my day. Whether we listen to 60’s music, chat about baking that amazing chocolate cake they used to make, or talk about where I got my jeans, there is never a dull moment with them. It’s the least I can do for them to visit for an hour a week, and my patient is always filled with such gratitude each time I visit. This gratitude is very much reciprocated as I have learned so much from them in such a short amount of time.

One major lesson I’ve learned from my patient is that silence is okay. When I first began to volunteer, I always felt the pressure to keep the conversation going for fear that I wasn’t doing enough if we were quiet. This pressure caused forced conversation,  which could be almost more uncomfortable than silence. However, I have been told multiple times that just sitting with this patient makes them feel so loved. Since then, I have found a sort of calmness in silence, even in my everyday life.

The next thing I learned from my patient is how important the little things are in life. It doesn’t seem to take much to bring them joy. On Valentine’s Day, I remembered that my patient had mentioned how much they missed their daughter’s dog, so I brought them a little stuffed dog with a red bow. When I gave it to them, I told them that now they have a dog of their own, and I was shocked to see tears in their eyes. Once again, a small act of kindness went a long way in the life of my patient.

While there are very few people comfortable with talking about death and dying, I believe that I am now one of them, and all it took was a few Thursday afternoons. Becoming a hospice volunteer has been one of the best decisions I have made, and there is something incredibly powerful about being someone’s support as they reach the end of their life. This experience has greatly impacted me as well as my patient, since I have seen how a little bit of kindness can go a long way. This experience has truly solidified my desire to join the medical field and help others in need, and it genuinely motivates me to be the best version of myself. I know that I will forever cherish those Thursday afternoons.