June 17, 2010
I have learned much from my patients over the years. Their gifts to me are endless and this week, I want to share a couple of my experiences with you.
I care for an elderly couple in their mid-eighties; their names are Gerald and Irene. They are among the happiest people I know. They have two grown children who are involved in their care, though from some distance, as their children have moved away. Still, Gerald and Irene love where they are and what they do every day, which is becoming less and less as their activity level diminishes. They are now both a bit forgetful, and recently they moved into a supervised living setting where they have necessary help through the day. They are happy for the assistance. Not long ago, Irene shared a story with me about their perspective on growing older, and the memory challenges that go with it.
It seems that they have, for years, made a habit of waking each morning and greeting each other for the day with an embrace, an ‘I love you!’ and a ‘How are you?’
“This has just been our way of starting the day in touch with one another,” Irene said with a smile.
“Now,” Gerald chimed in, “we’re so forgetful, we wake up in the morning, roll over, and before we do anything else, we ask each other, ‘Who are you?’”
We laughed, the three of us, as we sat in my exam room that day. It was hearty; a belly-laugh that I am certain was heard by staff and maybe patients elsewhere in the clinic. I learned our laughter together that humor is, indeed, among the best of medicines.
Some years ago, I cared for Nancy. Nancy had rheumatoid arthritis, and chronic low back pain associated with a degenerative condition known as “spinal stenosis.” Nancy and I were connected for several years until her death. Her final months were spent in a nursing home setting; she would come and go in and out of consciousness as we worked to provide adequate pain management for her, yet keep her alert enough to be able to participate in her care. She always called me, “Friend.”
“Hello, friend,” she would cheerfully say to me when we met, no matter how much pain she endured at the moment of her greeting. I saw her without a smile only once over the years I cared for her.
As she was approaching death in the nursing home, I took to visiting her there regularly. It was a Wednesday evening, and as I finished at the office, it occurred to me that I should go and see Nancy. Hospice support staff had become involved in her care, and I knew that the end would arrive soon.
As I entered her room, she was lying quietly in her bed; her daughter was with her. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was even and unlabored. She appeared very comfortable. I chatted with her daughter for a moment, and then turned to address Nancy. I spoke, but she did not. She never moved, and her breathing remained unchanged. Out of habit, I reached for my stethoscope and put it on her chest. Why I did this, I do not know, because she was in no distress and there was no clinical reason for me to listen to her heart or her lungs. Still, mostly by reflex, I suppose, I listened.
At that moment, she gave a bit of a sigh, and I heard her heart take its last beat. Her breathing also stopped. It was one of the most powerful, yet most peaceful things I’ve ever witnessed, and I have held on to the moment as a gift from Nancy to me: her final “Good-bye, friend!” It was the moment that Jesus came and took her home.
I turned to her daughter whose eyes were already glistening and said, “She is home now.” Nancy and I had talked many times about faith and what we mutually hoped for in “going home.” I was a bit jealous of her freedom to go at that moment.
Everyone has been blessed to know a Gerald and Irene, or a Nancy in their lifetime. Hopefully, we take the time to see these blessings. God comes to us through people like these individuals. They know their continued work as God’s instruments even as they grow older, and choose to carry it out joyfully until He calls them home.
They teach the meaning of Psalm 27, where the psalmist says: “Be stouthearted and wait for the Lord!” People like Gerald, Irene, and Nancy reflect joy in the presence of the Lord, even as they struggle through life’s challenges as they wait for His coming.
We should be good students and learn accordingly!
