Hospice

March 28,2010
Sunday, 8:22 A.M.
CarolAnn's house

Hospice. The word sends a shiver through the heart and brings a tear to each eye. You need only hear it to know how very close to the end of a story one has come. Renee, the Hospice lady, was here to visit with CarolAnn, her sister, Geri, brother-in-law Larry, and me yesterday. Me, mainly because I seem to have drifted into a major care giver role. This is not a pleasant, sip a cup of coffee, snack on a cookie kind of visit. This is serious, straight faced, box of tissues stuff.

Renee knows her job and I guess she does it well. When she left, she has a signed health proxy in her bag assuring that CarolAnn's wishes will be carried out by her sister (which I secretly fear will not be the case), a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) Order, and a synopsis of CarolAnn's personality. She told us that if CarolAnn doesn't want to eat, don't make her, don't even let it bother us. This often happens when people are taking this journey. She asked Geri about CarolAnn's finances (which are nil, so she doesn't need a will), disposition of her personal belongings (find out what things she wants to go to whom), and funeral arrangements (which would be so much easier for the family if they do them in advance). She told CarolAnn that everything will be done her way because that is how they want to ease her from this life, with no loose ends and no questions as to why noone paid attention to her wishes. She made an appointment with CarolAnn just to talk, on Wednesday at 11:00, left the traditional packet of information, (CarolAnn has a lot of those these days) and went on her way. Take care, Renee, wish I could say it was a pleasure.