Just as I was starting to get discouraged, worried that we would be out of work for a long time, the idea came to me to write about what I have accomplished since being here in the NW.
Hello again, dear friend
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This is the end, Beautiful Friend
My last day with hospice is fast approaching. Even though the last few years and especially months have been extremely challenging with no signs of oasis, hospice is my home away from home. I have bonded with many of my co-workers, simply by the nature of what we do together and what we support/have supported each other through. I have found a meaningful career path and success here. And I will miss it.
With immenent departure comes reflection, and I remember how very lucky I am to work here, to have found this job when I did. Working with someone like Violet* is a once in a lifetime experience. Now, almost 7 years after her passing, I can acknowledge how her life and death changed some integral part of me. How I view my life and my power over it.
I started the Milestones series to discuss working at hospice, but lost the thread after 2 installments. This is the 3rd and final. I always did love a trilogy.
The Caregiver’s Journey
Caregiving for a loved one, whether they are dying or not, can rate with crossing the Gobi on the scale of difficult things one may have to do. Many deaths offer gifts, to the dying person and their family. Some deaths are fraught with difficulty and resistance. I pray to experience only the former.
Working for hospice, it is our mission to help these people as much as we can. To treat them all with compassion and respect, and let them lead the way.
Every Tuesday at my work we have a meeting to check in about our current patients and their families. This is from a handout we received in the meeting from a Chaplain. Read More
Milestones – Part II
I began my career with hospice in the front office. Bob* and I were two sides of the same coin: I handled internal admin support, which included personnel files, the calendar, booking meeting locations, orienting new staff, etc. Bob* handled external admin support and tech issues. With her background in Silicon Valley start-ups, she had the skills to save the Rube Golberg-ian computer structure from itself. I imagined it eating us all like the machine in Superman II.
Our office was a three bedroom house near the local community college. We were squeezed into every nook and cranny of this place. Nurses’ station in the garage (converted, natch.) Medical supplies in the bathroom (don’t forget to put the lid down, or the gloves will fall in!) In spite of the haphazard infrastructure, the atmosphere was wonderful. The front office was located in the living room, with giant sliding glass doors looking out onto the backyard. There were always fresh flowers, and snacks in the kitchen.
And I was the baby. At 23, I was the youngest employee by almost 7 years. Out of about 50 employees, 4 or 5 of us were under 40. A wonderful environment to learn from strong women about how to be a strong woman. Exactly what I needed…
Our leader, Violet* (not her real name) was the kind of person you are lucky to meet in your lifetime. Funny, compassionate, highly organized and wickedly smart. After a short while with her, you felt that she knew you, as she did every single other employee. She asked about your kids, your spouse, your recent vacation. She was often found after hours in the kitchen, finishing up the last of the day’s dishes. Or missing the Christmas party, because she was the shuttle driver between the office and the party location.
Her death in 2003 was devastating for hospice and all it’s employees, and radically changed my life.
Her picture holds a place of honor in our new location, on the award plaque bearing her name.
See Part I here
Milestones – Part I
I have been working with death for 8 years. When the reality of mortality stares you in the face every morning, your battles start to pick themselves. And I celebrate the day I found this place, this work family. This is where I learned to try to say what needs to be said everyday, because life is precious, and oh so fragile.
Hospice has been such a huge part of my life and growth, that I plan to write a few posts exploring my history and present in this industry, as well as the emotional and spiritual growth it has brought to my life.
So let’s begin at the beginning, shall we?
February 2002. I had totaled my car in October, commuting ‘over the hill’ to my job, and I was done with the 50 mile – 2 hours a day commute. (I know that distance is a stone’s throw compared to some commutes, but I digress.) I had two job offers on the table, and I did not know if I could do the job with Hospice. More responsibility than ever before in an industry filled with sad stories and mystery or a receptionist gig with an insurance agency?
You’re right, the choice was not hard.
Bob* (not her real name) and I started on the same day. As we were having the tour, hospice’s first terminated employee was being escorted from the building. Little did we know the realities facing our supervisors at that time. During my first 2 years with hospice, the Director of Operations exposed all the roots of our little hospice to find the decay, and it was carved out. We started a new foundation on the remaining solid ground, and our budget has grown by at least $1mil every year since I’ve started. Our always outstanding clinical care is now matched by an outstanding structure of administrative management and support.
Who knew?
It’s hard to talk about death. In some circles.
Where I work, we talk about death and dying all day long. That’s what we do. We help people to die in the comfort of their own home. And we help their family cope with that process.
It’s a little different (I should say) being on the other side.
One of our long time volunteers passed away suddenly, most likely the evening after one of her Thursdays in our office. Cheery and friendly as always, she completed her filing and left without saying goodbye to anyone.
Unusual for her.
In our work, we talk about how sometimes the body knows when the time has come. A patient will suddenly rally, have the best day they’ve had in weeks, and then pass away in the night.
Or, they’ll convince the caregivers to get out and have a good time, only to pass while they’re away.
Or, they’ll complete their filing and quietly slip out of the office.
This volunteer helped us manage our work for seven years. And although I barely knew her, I loved her.
For her kindness, for her high spirit, for always asking ‘how’s our princess?’ (my daughter).
She was always glad to be there, and always glad to gab for a few minutes. Or just say hello and reconnect if I had too much to do.
Her memorial was standing room only. A mother, grammie, sister, friend. An inspiration. A role model.
Friday Five
Why blog? Why now?
- To reclaim the act of writing
- To reclaim my past through journaling
- To discover myself and my confidence
- To leave my comfort zone and build relationships
- To build and promote my crafty ‘business’ (and to learn how to be in business)
- As a love letter to my family, friends, co-workers and fellow crafters
- As a place to talk about working at hospice (in a general and confidential way, of course)
- And a place to talk about life and death; transitions and acceptance; of elephants in rooms.
