Monday, September 13, 2010

Chaplain Adam

We carefully approach Dorothy peacefully asleep in her wheelchair. Her deafness makes her invulnerable to the background beat of an old western movie blaring on the lobby TV screen, big band jazz tunes pouring out from the nearest bedroom radio, and silverware clinking from the trays of those finishing a late lunch. While I am taking in the scene, the nurse whom I am shadowing gently grasps Dorothy's shoulder. While this calm, fragile figure awakes from her place of rest, the nurse turns and lifts a small dry erase board off of the dresser. Carefully inking an inscription, she warns me that never has she written this much for Dorothy to read. We both hope she has enough energy today to understand us. When the nurse holds up our rectangular source of conversation I follow Dorothy's eyes slowly bounce from word to word. I realize that I have been holding my breath, watching for any slight evidence of a facial cue. She makes it to the last word. Facially unmoved, she cranes her neck upward towards me. Her eyes confirm that we have officially been introduced. She smiles. I exhale. To my surprise she touches my hand. Finally, the nurse can proceed with her examination. And whole time I just sat next to Dorothy looking at her life story through her photos on the wall. I would point at one or another and she would smile and squeeze my hand. Our wordless communication turned out to be a glorious conversation.

Thus concluded my first visit with a hospice patient as Chaplain Adam. I have recently begun my new job for a hospice health care company. We provide palliative or comforting care for those with a terminal diagnosis of less than 6 months to live. Our area includes about 125 patients and 45 different nursing homes or other assisted living facilities in the greater metro Milwaukee area. The job description of a hospice chaplain is more or less to coordinate spiritual care for a patient and their family. This often includes responding to requests of specific sacraments, contacting local clergy of the patient's preferred religious denomination, assisting or presiding in memorial services, acting as counselor for lively family dynamics, and more popularly, spending one on one time discussing life's final transition with the patient and their family.

It is hard to express how these visits carry so much meaning, but I look forward to sharing with you a few stories about the precious patients and supportive staff I work with. Any and all insights about death and dying from your own experience are welcome. I would really benefit from your wisdom. I hope you have a wonderful week!