Day 348: Hospice Patient Visit

Just like a "first day of school", my first day of visiting with a Hospice patient was filled with all kinds of emotions and anxieties.  Would I be able to connect with the patient?  Would he or she be receptive or responsive to my visit?  Would I run out of things to babble on about in the hour long companion visit?  Would I be able to tolerate the smells of the nursing home? Yet of all these very real and familiar volunteer curiosities, what I experienced was actually none of the above.  The aforementioned thoughts were no longer of concern as what I was faced with when I met my first patient was shock and an overwhelming sense of sadness.  My patient, whom I will call "My Friend", is a darling senior woman who is suffering from the final stages of Alzheimers.  The AseraCare Social Worker assigned to her case is an absolutely lovely and compassionate gal who is perfectly suited for her role.  She took me to the patient'sroom to introduce me, and we were both in disbelief when we saw the patient.  Apparently, My Friend had taken a drastic turn for the worse, deteriorating dramatically within just one week, and she was visibly distressed, lying helplessly in bed and unable to communicate.  She hadn't been dressed for the day as of yet, so she looked especially frail and sad.  The social worker and I immediately went to her bedside and tried to visit with her.  I took her hand and she slowly opened her eyes, which I am told means she acknowledged me.  But then she was trying to get out of the bed, which I knew was not safe, so I had to call for the nurse while I easily kept her 80lb frame in bed.  My Friend now knows all about Bianca, Olivia and Sophia.  What she actually understood of my nonstop chatter I will never know.  It was so difficult to not be able to help this tiny, very sick woman, be more comfortable.  Eventually, the nursing home aides came and washed  My Friend, dressed her and wheeled her out to a sitting area.  She looked wonderful!!  What a difference!!  She even had an adorable straw hat on.  My friend was still unable to communicate, but I think I did get a few responses....meaning she would lean into me or tighten her grip on my hand.....like when I told her that Paul's birthday is on St Patrick's Day as I know she is Irish, and that I make quilts.  My Friend's profile states that she was a painter and a civil rights activist.  I can only imagine her talents and intelligence in action. It's so profoundly sad to know that she can no longer contribute her gifts to the world.  After what seemed an eternity, an hour had passed and I left, letting her know that I will come back next week.  I only hope she will still be there.........