Bony fingers, labored breathing, and the sound of the steady drip of morphine. Holding my aunt\u2019s hand as more time passed between each breath, I thought, \u201cWhy am I pursuing a profession surrounding death?\u201d With each loss I suffered, I thought back to my two friends who each lost their mothers to breast cancer at sixteen years old. In some odd way, I felt closer to them, realizing that death is not the opposite of life, but rather the unique\u2014albeit heart-wrenching\u2014part of life that unites us all. It\u2019s inevitable and unavoidable, but that\u2019s not to say hope doesn\u2019t have a place in the end of life.<\/p>\n
As my dad is an oncologist, I grew up surrounded by cancer, death, and the way they affect all aspects of someone\u2019s life, including the lives of family and friends around them. While in my Dad\u2019s office, one of his patients shared pictures of his daughter\u2019s wedding with me, remarking that, because of my dad, he was able to walk his daughter down the aisle. My dad handed me a thank you note his patient\u2019s daughter wrote him. I had chills just looking at it\u2014holding hope in my hands. This exemplified the importance of connection with patients on a more personal level, and that medicine is just as much about treating an illness as it is about recognizing the life and the person behind the diagnosis.<\/p>\n
Throughout my first two years of college, I lost two aunts, an uncle, and my beloved Nana. Three out of the four ended up on hospice. Watching my family whither away before my eyes ripped my soul in two, but watching my mom watch her sister and mother suffer made it even harder. My mom spent so many hours at hospice, rehab facilities, and doctors appointments that she had no time to herself. My personal experiences led me to apply to be a Seasons hospice volunteer.<\/p>\n
Little did I know it completely changed my outlook on life, strengthening my passion for the geriatric population in particular. My first patient was an African American woman in her nineties. No matter how bad my day or my week was, I found solace in our visits. She reflected on her life and offered wisdom, all the while emphasizing the importance of kindness and respect. Not once did our conversations teeter on the topic of death, rather they were quite the opposite. We discussed the meaning of life and all there was to be grateful for. Despite the many tragedies this woman faced in her life, she always ended the memory with gratitude.<\/p>\n
Similarly, my next patient was nothing but grateful, although our conversations did include discussing death. She expressed her excitement to go to heaven and be reunited with her husband. While one patient looked to the past and the other looked to the future, there was the constant kindness, gratitude, and love that united them both. I was nearly moved to tears each visit as they would take my hand and thank me for keeping them company.<\/p>\n
I thought back to my mom, sitting there for hours on end because she did not want to leave her mother\u2019s side, and there was no one else to keep her company. In the face of death, I learned that what comes through is utter peace and gratitude for the opportunity of life. However, I also learned that no matter what I think about death, I can never know someone else\u2019s beliefs. The most important thing is to acknowledge them and try to guide people out of the world with as much dignity as they were introduced to it.
\nBeing a witness to death from many different positions has taught me the valuable lesson of never losing my ability to empathize and connect even as I go on to gain the knowledge that will allow me to make medical decisions. Sometimes all people need is company, hope, and to be understood. While ultimately I want to become a doctor to provide treatment, this experience has piqued my interest in palliative care and given me insight into the meaning of life and death.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Bony fingers, labored breathing, and the sound of the steady drip of morphine. Holding my aunt\u2019s hand as more time passed between each breath, I thought, \u201cWhy am I pursuing a profession surrounding death?\u201d With each loss I suffered, I thought back to my two friends who each lost their mothers to breast cancer at … Continue reading “Hope in Death”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"school":[10],"program_year":[31],"class_list":["post-1412","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-hospice","school-villanova","program_year-31"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.athenainstitute.com\/ahp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1412","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.athenainstitute.com\/ahp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.athenainstitute.com\/ahp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.athenainstitute.com\/ahp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.athenainstitute.com\/ahp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1412"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.athenainstitute.com\/ahp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1412\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1557,"href":"https:\/\/www.athenainstitute.com\/ahp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1412\/revisions\/1557"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.athenainstitute.com\/ahp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1412"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.athenainstitute.com\/ahp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1412"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.athenainstitute.com\/ahp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1412"},{"taxonomy":"school","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.athenainstitute.com\/ahp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/school?post=1412"},{"taxonomy":"program_year","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.athenainstitute.com\/ahp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/program_year?post=1412"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}