(Here's an article I wrote for a newsletter where I'm currently employed. I hope that you are as moved by reading it as I was when I wrote it.)
As hospice professionals, we have a lot of people coming in and going out of our lives. On a daily basis, we meet new patients and their families. Some are with us only briefly, leaving a faint mark on our lives and our hearts. While others are with us much longer and change our lives forever. This is a story of one of those “life changers” and how he blessed our lives.
His name was Robert Palmer. “Call me Bobby,” he insisted. Bobby lived in McDowell County but had decided to live out his final days in our Palliative Care Center at Burke Hospice & Palliative Care. Bobby was not close to his family and did not want to be a burden on his friends. If you haven’t figured it out by now, Bobby was calling the shots – in other words, he wanted to be in control of his life as long as possible and we supported this.
On one of his first visits to our facility, he shared with us that he wouldn’t be around for Christmas and wanted to see where he was going to die.
Yes, we have discussions like this on a fairly regular basis. Although the words change, the intent is always the same. Our patients - our friends - are always facing tough decisions and difficult choices. We try to ease their pain, calm their minds and support their families. We want to make every day as good as possible.
Bobby was admitted to the Palliative Care Center on a Monday with a diagnosis of lung cancer. He had spent his time since his first visit to the unit giving away or donating his personal possessions. Bobby was preparing to move into his “last” home. At first, he was able to continue driving and would sign himself out of the center. As his disease progressed, Bobby’s solo trips outside quickly ended. A close friend from Marion would visit and take him out when he was feeling up to it. By that point, Bobby had become one of our family and it was not uncommon to see a staff member wheeling him around the campus.
As his conditioned worsened, it became necessary to change his plan of care. Even in his weakened state, Bobby insisted on being part of the discussion. Bobby insisted on other things as well. Each day Bobby would spend time with a daily devotion and he would read his Bible. He would remind us that he knew where he was going and his peace of mind was reassuring both to him and us. In his words, he was going “to be with his Jesus.”
Bobby also enjoyed spending his time in the company of other people at the unit. He especially enjoyed participating in our Halloween activities and even passed out candy to visiting children. Bobby’s closest friend, however, may have been the center’s clinical director Catherine Jones. Catherine had met Bobby during his first visit to the center which helped to spark the special bond between them.
This special bond actually took the form of a pair of socks one day. Catherine had been out of her office rounding in the unit only to return to find a pair of green socks on her desk. Tears came to her eyes as she realized where she had seen them before. Bobby was giving away his last few possessions. When Catherine asked him about the socks, he simply told her that he “had felt loved here and that he knew he was going to die soon,”
Shortly after that, Bobby’s condition rapidly declined to the point where he could no longer walk or even talk clearly. We kept talking to our friend and he would smile back, give us a reassuring nod. True to form, on his last day with us, Bobby insisted on standing up one last time.
Bobby passed away on a Tuesday. He had been with us only 44 days, but his memory will remain with us forever. We remember his smile and his laugh. We remember the sparkle in his eyes. We remember his gift of green socks and what they truly represent – unconditional love and abiding gratefulness.
We were blessed to be able to care for Bobby for 44 days. We feel this way about every person we care for, regardless of how long they are with us. It is our honor and our privilege to be a part of your family during one of your most special, most memorable times. Thank you.
As hospice professionals, we have a lot of people coming in and going out of our lives. On a daily basis, we meet new patients and their families. Some are with us only briefly, leaving a faint mark on our lives and our hearts. While others are with us much longer and change our lives forever. This is a story of one of those “life changers” and how he blessed our lives.
His name was Robert Palmer. “Call me Bobby,” he insisted. Bobby lived in McDowell County but had decided to live out his final days in our Palliative Care Center at Burke Hospice & Palliative Care. Bobby was not close to his family and did not want to be a burden on his friends. If you haven’t figured it out by now, Bobby was calling the shots – in other words, he wanted to be in control of his life as long as possible and we supported this.
On one of his first visits to our facility, he shared with us that he wouldn’t be around for Christmas and wanted to see where he was going to die.
Yes, we have discussions like this on a fairly regular basis. Although the words change, the intent is always the same. Our patients - our friends - are always facing tough decisions and difficult choices. We try to ease their pain, calm their minds and support their families. We want to make every day as good as possible.
Bobby was admitted to the Palliative Care Center on a Monday with a diagnosis of lung cancer. He had spent his time since his first visit to the unit giving away or donating his personal possessions. Bobby was preparing to move into his “last” home. At first, he was able to continue driving and would sign himself out of the center. As his disease progressed, Bobby’s solo trips outside quickly ended. A close friend from Marion would visit and take him out when he was feeling up to it. By that point, Bobby had become one of our family and it was not uncommon to see a staff member wheeling him around the campus.
As his conditioned worsened, it became necessary to change his plan of care. Even in his weakened state, Bobby insisted on being part of the discussion. Bobby insisted on other things as well. Each day Bobby would spend time with a daily devotion and he would read his Bible. He would remind us that he knew where he was going and his peace of mind was reassuring both to him and us. In his words, he was going “to be with his Jesus.”
Bobby also enjoyed spending his time in the company of other people at the unit. He especially enjoyed participating in our Halloween activities and even passed out candy to visiting children. Bobby’s closest friend, however, may have been the center’s clinical director Catherine Jones. Catherine had met Bobby during his first visit to the center which helped to spark the special bond between them.
This special bond actually took the form of a pair of socks one day. Catherine had been out of her office rounding in the unit only to return to find a pair of green socks on her desk. Tears came to her eyes as she realized where she had seen them before. Bobby was giving away his last few possessions. When Catherine asked him about the socks, he simply told her that he “had felt loved here and that he knew he was going to die soon,”
Shortly after that, Bobby’s condition rapidly declined to the point where he could no longer walk or even talk clearly. We kept talking to our friend and he would smile back, give us a reassuring nod. True to form, on his last day with us, Bobby insisted on standing up one last time.
Bobby passed away on a Tuesday. He had been with us only 44 days, but his memory will remain with us forever. We remember his smile and his laugh. We remember the sparkle in his eyes. We remember his gift of green socks and what they truly represent – unconditional love and abiding gratefulness.
We were blessed to be able to care for Bobby for 44 days. We feel this way about every person we care for, regardless of how long they are with us. It is our honor and our privilege to be a part of your family during one of your most special, most memorable times. Thank you.