Nancy May, Eldercare Success: Hospice, A Personal Experience With Dad,

Hospice, My First Experience.

My first experience with hospice was listening to a conversation that my

mom and her dearest best friend, Carol Kocka, were having in Carol's kitchen.

You see, Carol's daughter, Leanne was in the final stages of her

own life dealing with cancer.

Leanne could barely keep her head up with a soft neck brace.

yet insisted on feeding the three of us lunch, Carol, Mom, and me.

after Leanne's passing.

Hospice was never mentioned again until Carol herself had passed.

Sadly, only a few years later, in battling pancreatic cancer.

My next personal experience with hospice was when the subject was forced on me.

I know, force is probably a word that we don't want to even hear about with

hospice, but unfortunately, it often is.

You see, we had fought as hard as we could with dad, right

up to 99 years and 37 days.

There was nothing more that the doctors could do to keep him here with us and mom.

A call from the emergency room with our lead aid and the ER

nurse told me that Dad and I.

We're now backed into a corner and had no place to go.

I know that some people say you should never wait this long to make an important

decision with regards to hospice.

But honestly, I believe that's a very personal decision.

And it truly depends upon the wishes of your parent and loved

one and how they want to live their life right to the very end.

Dad's wishes were to fight And we did.

with this first hospice decision in my life, decisions had to

be made from 1, 200 miles away.

Papers were faxed for my signature and approval and discharge orders

on where he's supposed to go.

in our case, home with mom, so they could be at each other's side.

Through this long, 60 minute process and conversation.

My breath was slowly being squeezed from my own body and lungs.

With emotionally hard decisions, Fast flight ticket purchases,

And a call to my sister.

Finally arriving the next day in Tampa International Airport, the

drive from the rental car parking lot, 40 minutes north to mom and

dad's side, felt like it took days.

Parking the car in the garage, and walking in the door, and

getting to the foot of dad's bed.

Millie, our lead aide at dad's bedside, he took one look at me

and said, with surprise, Tracie?,

My reply was, No, Dad, it's Nance.

I wish I had known better then, as I might have said, Yes, Dad, it is Tracie.

You see, Tracy was my younger sister who passed away at three

and a half, of childhood leukemia.

I hope that this was a sign that Dad was being welcomed into a new world

by my sister who loved him dearly, too, and would be taking over his

care and new life from this time on.

My lead aide, Millie, assured me that this was the case.

our hospice team for dad was kind, professional, and direct in how

they helped us understand how these final days would be for dad.

our emotions, and how we deal with those were things we'd

have to figure out ourselves.

Honestly, I appreciated every single one of our team members, from Chaplain

Scott all the way to Nurse Catherine.

They were the warriors and guides for us at this time of life.

Within minutes before Dad's final passing, one of our hospice

team members just happened to be with us on a scheduled call.

to this day, I am thankful that she was there at our side for our aides,

for my sister, and yes, for myself.

You see, I had been out making sure that funeral arrangements were in

place, excruciating as that was.

I know that Dad always wanted to make sure that the T's were

crossed and the I's were dotted.

so when this time came, that I would be able to take care of myself, and

yes, everybody else, and not have to worry about anything on my way

home, I got a call from my sister.

Hurry, hurry!, please, come now, come now.

She didn't even have to tell me what was going on, I knew.

But Dad hung on until I walked into his room.

The exact time, 3.

20pm, on Patriots Day.

Dad couldn't have selected a better day as he was Mr.

Red, White, and Blue to the core.

he took his final breath as I reached his feet.

After we knew what had happened, my aides asked, if they could be

the one to wash and dress Dad.

And with respect, I said yes.

They dressed Dad in his Dartmouth football jersey, a gift from the current

Dartmouth team football coach, Buddy Teevens, and his favorite fuzzy bottle

jacket, shorts and crazy socks, a gift that I had given to him a year earlier.

And a photo of mom, his three daughters, and a cloth hanky in his pocket.

Dad was physically ready to leave us.

During this time, I had the opportunity to talk with two funeral directors

who were there to help take dad off.

I had gotten to know who these men were.

One a former Navy fellow,, the other a former firefighter who

had moved down to Florida from Massachusetts, And had not lived far

from where mom and dad had come from.

getting to know these men made me feel better in knowing that dad was

in the best care and best hands.

draped in an American flag.

dad's look on his face was calm and serene.

And I insisted that he not be fully covered until taken out the front door.

Which is the law, unfortunately, in Florida.

I'm pretty sure it is elsewhere.

I choked up even thinking about it at this point.

the lone hospice worker was with us through this final time, became one of

our family members almost within seconds.

Dad had always told me over the years, ever since I was a kid actually, to have a

scotch and play music when this day came.

He said it was a time not to be sad, but to smile, party, And toast life.

I asked that hospice nurse if she would stay with us.

She looked at her watch, 5:01 PM quitting time.

You bet I can.

And so she joined us in a scotch and a toast to dad.

I thought she might think we were a little weird.

So I said, Do you think we're weird?

She said, Not a bit.

Her response was, You see, I come from a good Irish family.

when my grandmother was passing, and in a hospital bed in the middle

of our living room, she lay there dying, as we all got soused on wine.

So you see, no, you're not weird.

With that, we laughed, and now my time was to take care of mom.

Hospice is actually a good organization, as much as I said

otherwise in the previous episode.

there's a lot more in store for the next episode in Hospice Part Number 2 with Mom.

Every experience is different, and I want to share these with you so that

you won't be afraid, and will know at least a little bit about what to expect.

On that note.

Please share this episode with a friend, family member, or anybody else

that you might know who's going under a little stress and strain and could

be caring for somebody else as well.

It can be your gift to them because it's my gift to you.

This is Nancy May from Eldercare Success.

Be well, stay well, and take care.

Bye bye.