A woman see's the light!

The 3^rd woman to cross my horizon in that short time and have an impact on me was an 88 year old. I was bleeped to her bedside one night. When I arrived the nurse ushered me in quite quickly but didn’t give me much info. Behind the closed curtains was a frail woman lying quite still in bed. She had oxygen prongs up her nose and she was struggling to breathe. Her eyes were closed and she was motionless. At her side was her only daughter and son-in-law. I was told that their only son was on his way and there was no one else in their small but close family.

When I arrive in a situation like that I always get the family to tell me what’s been happening, even if the staff have already told me. This helps me know if the family have grasped the reality of the situation. The family told me that mum had been ill for a while but always fiercely independent. She’d taken a turn for the worse and had been in hospital for 3 weeks. She had pulled out her feeding tube on 2 occasions and refused to have it placed back in. They felt that was mum’s way of saying she’d had enough.

I asked them if mum was religious and they said she wasn’t but that she did believe. I explained that people of their mothers age often had a belief system because it was common for that generation to have gone to Sunday school and church. I explained that I wasn’t asking in order to make judgements but just so that I could know what words might be appropriate and familiar. I then asked the family if they believed and they told me they didn’t. I asked them what they would like me to do and they asked me if I could say a few words of comfort to mum.

I went to the bedside. When a patient is still breathing I always introduce myself and explain what I’m doing just in case they can still hear me. I said that I was the chaplain and I hoped it was ok to talk to her. She said “Yes dear” I smiled as you would not have thought she was conscious. I explained that her family were at the other side of the bed. Again she said “Yes dear” I asked her if she knew why they were there. She said “Yes dear, to see the end” This really made me smile as it’s uncommon for people to be so frank during a death bed scene. I gently told the woman that as well as that I thought they were there because they loved her and they wanted to say thank you to her for being such a fantastic mum and grandmother. The daughter agreed with me. I then asked the patient if she wanted me to say a prayer. She said she did. I read psalm 23. As I got to the bit about “The valley of the shadow of death” the woman stopped breathing. It’s beautiful when that happens but very disconcerting. It’s also hard being the only professional present to hold the tension of the moment. After about 20 seconds, which seemed an eternity, the woman started to breath again. 

At the end of the psalm I did a general prayer of thanksgiving for a long life well lived and the continuing bonds which would exist between those who love each other even though separated by death. I also said that death could not remove the love which remains in the heart. The woman joined in with the amen at the end. 

I asked her if she wanted me to do anything else. She then asked me how long it would be before the end. I told her that no-one ever knows that and that was difficult for me to answer, but in my experience I didn’t think it was to be very much longer. I also reassured her that she was surrounded by a family that loved her and when she started her last journey she would be accompanied by a loving God who would welcome her with open arms. She thanked me. 

The family were then asking some medical questions. I told them I’d go and get that info and come back. When I came back the daughter told me that mum had just seen the light so how much longer was it likely to be now. This was a new one on me and I was thinking on my feet. I explained that mum was having difficulty getting oxygen in and that this affects the brain and can cause people to see things but it could also be a spiritual thing and that some things remain a mystery until we experience them and that one day we’d get the answer to all these questions. Until then I explained that we had to live with not knowing anything for definite accept that mum was coming to the end of her struggling and going to a place of peace. I asked mum if she was afraid and she told me she wasn’t. I thanked her for being an inspiration to me and her family in the way she was facing her death and wished her well for her final journey. She died 45 minutes later.

Wow, ain't there some fantastic people in the world? What a way to go. May she rest in peace and rise in glory. Amen

Precious hugs that speak a 1000 words

The 2nd woman I met in that paerticular week of amazing women was someone who knew she was dying. She was in her 50’s and had 3 different primary cancers. I have never known that in anyone else. Despite the really awful hand that had been dealt her, she was amazingly pragmatic and positive. She wanted to know from me if she could have a funeral service in church even though she was an atheist. The reason she wanted to be in church was because she was a professional singer and had sung in churches and cathedrals all her life, as had her long term partner.

As a hospital chaplain I am used to having unusual requests made of me. Parish clergy are slightly different because they generally meet the needs of a Christian community or those who nominally want a Christian service. I was hoping I’d be able to find a local vicar who’d be able to cope with this slightly unusual request. One vicar I spoke to said he couldn’t carry out their request in all conscience, that there would have to be prayers and a Christian commendation. He also didn’t feel comfortable letting someone else take the service. I wasn’t deterred though and did find someone, who is the vicar of a lovely local church that has a high ceiling and would have good acoustics. I was really pleased to be able to go back to the family and say I’d found someone who could accommodate their wishes. During the couple of days that it took me to sort this out, I had several conversations with the family which included partner, daughter and mother. All were very open about what was happening. They asked me all sorts of very practical questions. The whole time they were doing this they were physically in contact with each other. I was incredibly impressed by them and gave the patient a copy of a poem and wrote a note on it to say she had my utmost respect for the way she was facing her death.

I went to say goodbye to them the day they left hospital. They were taking this wonderful woman home to die. They knew that I was shortly to leave the Trust and they said it was a shame because they were thinking about asking me to take the funeral. I thanked them for being so open with me about everything and wished them well as a family for what was to come. The patient was laying in bed looking frail. It nearly brought a lump to my throat when, with a huge effort she sat up and reached to the end of the bed where I was standing to give me a hug. That was one of the most precious hugs I’ve received and given. Aren’t there some amazing people in the world?

The art of listening and absorbing

During the next week of my work as a hospital chaplain I was to meet 3 women who made an impact on me. 

The first was a woman I had met a year before. She’d been diagnosed with leukaemia and was having chemotherapy. She told me that she’d been well following the chemo and had a fairly good year. Unfortunately a routine blood test showed that the leukaemia was back. She was having more chemo and was to have a bone marrow transplant. It wasn’t a complete match but it was her best chance. As she told me this she started to cry. She said that she didn’t know what it was about me but whenever she sees me she cries. I told her that I took it as a compliment that she felt safe enough to let go with me.   

She talked through her fears of being ill and dependant. She also talked about living in the uncertainty of not knowing whether she would live or die. She talked through her frustrations of not being able to do the ordinary things in life, like shopping and tidying her place. She told me about feeling stressed that she had nothing in for Christmas. It just all tumbled out of her and I just sat and absorbed it. She was by nature a very private person. Normally I would hug a person who was telling me all this, or at least hold their hand. This was not something that would have helped this patient, so it was just an absorption job. This is still extremely effective for the patient because it’s like you carry away from them what they’ve confided and they feel lighter for it.

I said prayers with the patient before I left and handed over all we’d talked about to God. As I was getting ready to go the patient’s husband arrived. She gave him a big smile and he said how much better she looked. I left the room knowing my job was done for that day.

You never know what's coming next with Rebel Rev

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=uQLkKFckbtg

Something different for New Years Day. Enjoy and have a good one

Where love and sorrow meet

The cultural divide can be met and understood if we allow it

One Sunday as I was doing my usual walk through the A&E department I was stopped by a member of staff who told me a patient had been brought in “suspended” in other words no heart beat. I was told his wife was in the relatives room and she was very distressed and would I mind popping in and seeing if I could do anything.

When I went into the room the woman’s daughter had just arrived. I recognised her as the young woman that worked in the hospital shop. I spent some time with them but it was clear that the patient’s wife was finding my presence upsetting as it just confirmed how sick her husband was. She just kept saying we’ve got to stay positive. I told them to contact me through the staff if they needed anything.

I continued with my usual Sunday visiting and took communion to those patients that wanted it.

Next I wandered into ICU. The patient from A&E was now there and his daughter and wife were in the visitors room. Again I spent some time talking to them. They told me that the patient was a practicing Muslim. They were not and wondered what to do. I said that when I got back to the office I would contact the mosque and leave a message for the Imam.

Before I reached the office I was bleeped by the ward manager who told me that the patient had just died and as he was Muslim they were not sure what to do. I said I’d sort it and not to do anything. I went over to the mosque across the road and managed to get a message to the Imam who came out to me. I explained what had happened and he said he’d come to the hospital. I went back to the ward and explained this then sat with the family. The Imam came and spent a short time chatting to the family, then went and did the death prayers.

The family were obviously distressed. The man was only in his 50’s and had never been sick. His son arrived having got the phone call at work. None of them were Muslim and so were unaware of any rituals and what to do next. I explained some things to them but said that the Imam would come and talk to them as soon as he had finished doing the prayers.

The Imam was someone who had done a placement at the hospital and I had worked with previously. I knew he would explain things to the family well. They were very anxious because they wanted things to be done correctly.

It was a strange situation because the women in the family were used to doing things but the Imam had to speak with the son, who then came in and relayed what had been said to his mum and sister.

I took the daughter and son in to see their dad and say their last farewell. I then walked them to the main entrance and watched as the family walked away. I hoped that they were not going to find the clash of culture too great.

Carrying on from where I left my last blog; after saying goodbye to the muslim mans family I went back up to the unit and heard someone sobbing loudly from a visitor’s bedroom. I asked what that was about but the staff on ICU didn’t know anything and said it must be to do with HDU next door. Of course, being me, I couldn’t ignore it so went and checked with HDU. They told me a patient had just died and said it would be nice if I checked on the family. 

I went out into the corridor and turned the corner. I saw a woman I recognised as a visitor from my regular wanderings through the unit. She saw me and threw her arms around me and started to wail loudly. I had snot and tears running down my neck and people in the visitors room looking very uncomfortable at the commotion but I knew I needed to wait just long enough to be able to get the woman to take my hand and I lead her back into the more private surroundings of bedroom she'd been allocated just on the side of the unit. Her daughters were also there with their partners.

Unlike the other situation I’d dealt with that day, this man had been ill for some time and his death was not unexpected. They were all still extremely shocked that it had finally happened. This man was obviously well loved and even though they were glad he was no longer suffering they couldn’t imagine life without him. I spent a couple of hours with the family until they felt able to go. They asked me to say some prayers before they left, which I did. I emphasised that the thread which separates life and death, still bind us to those we love through the memories of the heart.

I finally left the hospital around 7pm. What a day. I was shattered but felt good about being able to be there for those two families at those points of crisis.

I’ve since seen the daughter of the Muslim man. She told me that the funeral was beautiful and they needn’t have worried so much. She also thanked me for being there when they needed someone.

Sometimes that's all we can do is be there at that point where love and sorrow meet!