Two paths converge

As well as my work at the hospital I enjoyed ministering to the people of the parish where I had been a curate since 2003. I was serving my title there as the Church of England puts it quaintly. The Church Warden had recently been ill. She lived alone in a flat. I went to visit her and realised she was more ill than had been understood. I started to liaise for her with her hospital appointments, which were all at the hospital where I worked. I used to meet her and accompany her to her outpatient clinics. Eventually she was admitted to the hospital. Her family all lived abroad so I was put down as Sheila’s next of kin. I contacted her family in Canada and America and kept then informed about what was going on. Her younger sister, who she got on with best, came over and Sheila was able to be at home and she picked up and didn’t seem so bad. Within weeks of her sister returning to Canada she had deteriorated to such an extent that she ended up back in hospital again. I visited her as much as I could and could see she was really struggling. This woman who had been a really active member of the church and used to go to the local school to help the children with their reading was now unable to walk or get in and out of bed without assistance. In fact she used to stay in the chair because she was frightened of not getting out of bed in enough time to go to the loo. She was being really stubborn about this and I could not budge her out of the chair into a more comfortable position in the bed.

It seemed that she was getting worse and she didn’t know why. She told me she had been referred to the palliative care team and she asked me what this was and why she had been referred. I was shocked because of course I knew what this meant. I needed to buy some time and said I’d talk to the doctors.

When I talked to the team of doctors looking after Sheila they told me she had cancer and that it was terminal. I asked them if they had told her. I wasn’t convinced by their answer that they had, even though they said they had. I explained to them that whatever they had said Sheila was unaware of the seriousness of the situation. I got as many facts as I could from them I went back into Sheila’s room with a heavy heart. She looked at me with questioning yet fearful eyes. She asked if I’d seen the doctor. I explained that I had and did she want to know what they had said. She told me she did. I took her hand in mine and as gently as I could I told her that she had cancer and that she was terminally ill. She asked me how long and I had to tell her it was likely to be weeks rather than months. I apologised for having to tell her this and she squeezed my hand and said “I’m glad it’s you that is telling me I wouldn’t want to hear this without you anyway.” Sheila looked shocked and sad. I just held her hand. She was a little tearful. I asked her if she was frightened and she astounded me by saying no. This woman was one of the worst worriers I knew so to hear she wasn’t frightened amazed me. It turned out that she wasn’t frightened because she had her faith and was looking forward to seeing her beloved daughter who had died at the age of 18. Now that she had the facts she seemed to stop fretting. Looking back on it now I think Sheila was afraid of losing her independence and living a life where she was unwell and felt ill. She now knew this was not going to be the case and so she relaxed. It’s strange how people deal with things so differently.

Sheila asked me to phone and tell her sisters. It’s hard to give bad news at anytime but to do it over the phone is horrible. I spoke to her youngest sister who said she would phone the others. From that point on there was a flurry of phone calls between us with me relaying information so that they could make decisions about when would be best to come over.

All through this time I saw Sheila several times a day. She hadn’t written a will, her sisters were anxious about this, as was Sheila. So for the first time in my life I wrote a very simple will out which Sheila signed in the presence of two friends from church, who witnessed it. I found myself wearing many different hats. I spoke to Sheila about what she wanted from her funeral and liaised closely with my colleague from the parish about all that was going on.

When Sheila first became ill she was aware that I was planning a big holiday to Australia. The time was slipping by and the time for my trip was getting closer. By now all Sheila’s family were over and trying to sort out her affairs, as she wasn’t expected to live for much longer. But she was still hanging on. I spoke to my parish colleague about it and we decided I needed to remind her that I was going away. That way if she wanted to give up sooner she could, not that these things are always controllable. About 3 weeks before I went and with my parish colleague at my side I told Sheila that I was due to fly off soon. You could see that she almost visibly shuddered but I explained that my colleague would be around and we would both take the best care for her while we could.

Sheila didn’t die before I left. I said some prayers with my colleague at her bedside 2 days before I left. It was like I was handing her over to my colleagues care and we were all aware that was what was going on. I saw her again on my own the day before I left. It was hard to say goodbye. I knew I was never going to see this woman again in this earthly life. We had become quite close during the last few months. I hated not being able to be there at the end and also knew that I probably wouldn’t be at her funeral either. It was definitely a tough goodbye. I went into the Chapel before I left work and handed her over into God’s tender care.

Whilst I was away I set up a special email address just for my colleague. Sheila died about a week after I left. I was pleased that this woman who had worried all her life, died peacefully and unafraid.  I expressed my feelings to my colleague and passed on my condolences to the family and to Sheila’s church family. On the day of Sheila’s funeral I went into a local church and said some prayers and lit a candle. My colleague very kindly quoted something I had said about Sheila as the final tribute in her eulogy. So even though separated by 11.000 miles I still felt connected.

The whole episode was very intense. I learned a lot about the importance of keeping boundaries when two areas of my life converged i.e. the curacy and the chaplaincy. I also learned that it is ok not to be able to see things through to completion. That although this leaves me not feeling as fulfilled it doesn’t mean the situation is less complete. The other people in Sheila’s life played their important roles and I did my Emmaus bit. In other words I journeyed with her for a while and she finished the journey on her own but also with the company of others.