Do You Want to Hear a Story?

The first time I went to visit with her, she was laying rigidly with arms straight under a blanket pulled up to her chin. She looked straight up at the ceiling and would only talk when asked a question and then would say only yes or no after some hesitation. Her eyes never moved from the ceiling and she never moved her body. Her son was there trying to talk with her but got these short responses. It looked like it was going to be a difficult 'visit' for me.

I tried asking some questions like how is the food? Nothing. Is it good? Pause...Pause...yes. It went on like that until I ran out of questions (very quickly). So I chatted a bit about the weather, the facility and the folks who work here; she seemed to listen intently. So I took a chance...I asked if she would like a story read to her. Yes.

I carry around several books from the Chicken Soup for series; I pulled one out of my bag and scanned the index for a topic that might somehow fit the situation...I couldn't find anything. So I went with what my gut and heart told me, they usually never fail.

The title of the short story was "Amy Graham" by Mark V Hansen. It is the story of a young lady diagnosed with terminal leukemia...she had three days left. As part of Make-a-Wish foundation she wanted to attend this healing service held in Denver, Colorado. Mark Hansen is a motivational speaker who was to conduct three services and one prosperity consciousness workshop. He was surprised that a 17 year old wanted to spend her last time doing this instead of some fun visit to Disney.

He was so moved by her desire that he asked the full house if they wanted to learn a healing process that may serve them for life; it seemed every hand raised. He explained the process, they did it and aimed their healing energies toward Amy. She returned home and two weeks later called to inform him that she had been discharged and was in total remission.

I finished the story and looked her right in the eye, she seemed to have a little spark there. I took the instruction from the process in the book...rub hands together vigorously and direct them toward the patient with loving thoughts. I held my hands several inches above her body and waved them from her head to her toes and back again. The little glint was still there. She said thank you.

I will pray for you tonight I said as I left. See you next Saturday. Yes.

Next Saturday when I got there I perused the chart that lists patients. It indicates the most recent changes in their condition whether it be up or down or if they have passed. I was shocked to see that she had moved from the worst classification to a full step higher...she is functioning much better! She may be relocating to a rehabilitation center and away from the Hospice House.

Thank you.

My Second First

When I saw her for the first time, she looked so very fragile. No matter how many times I do this, it is always a challenge to my comfort zone…meeting someone for the first time on this deeper (what I call) spiritual level. Her right eye was cloudy and the eyelid a bit crusty. I doubted if she could see any longer through that eye. The left eye looked clear but stared off into space.

Gently speaking her name, I greeted her. Only a few seconds passed before the left eye blinked into a kind of recognition. Blink. Blink.

I offered her a warm smile and said I came by to let her know she is not forgotten. She smiled just a little. She was so very weak. I soothed her with some caring words and she listened and blinked occasionally.

Then quite unexpectedly she raised her left arm straight up off the bed from the elbow. I reached over and held her hand. With a very gentle squeeze she held my hand for several minutes; then just as unexpectedly, she dropped it.

I scanned the room and discovered a soft stuffed rabbit and placed it near her. She responded by holding and squeezing it, all the while becoming calmer. Then she let it go of it too. I left it there for her to hold when she wanted and told her she should rest some. I promised I would be back next week, if it was okay with her.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

Yes, until next week then.

My First, First

It often takes time to begin visiting a new patient. Just making contact can feel like a major breakthrough and we need that before volunteer visits can begin, so that the patient can agree to visits and tell us when to visit.

When we can’t make contact, we sometimes just make the first visit a “drop in.” We can do this because we have been assured they want visitors, we just can’t set up a pre-arranged time.

My first “drop in’ was to a lady who was located 25 miles away. When I signed in at the assisted living center, I asked where the room was. “Upstairs to the left at the end of the hall” they said. I went there and noticed the numbers go all the way up to the one before the room number I was looking for, then the area turned into a screened outdoor sitting space.

I wandered around the second floor and found the room that I was looking for at the opposite end of the building, The numbers were totally out of sequence; it was as if they stuck this one room there as an after-thought. I knocked on the door but I knew the lady could not speak above a whisper, so I stuck my head in and hoped for the best. I stepped in and made eye contact; then began to introduce myself.

It is hard to tell if you should continue at times.

I walked to her recliner and tried to have a conversation but I seemed to be failing miserably. After a few excruciatingly long minutes, she said ”I’m having a bad time right now.” I figured I better stay just in case things really took a turn. That did not happen.

A few more minutes passed, not as bad as before and there was a knock at the door. Her priest had come to give communion. So in this very short time we established that she was having a bad episode, but it would pass. Every Friday at 11:00 she gets communion before lunch, yes she most definitely wants visitors and I better come back after lunch on Fridays.

Some things you just cannot do over the phone.