The woman I work for has been placed in Hospice Care, still in her home, as of late last week. They will come and assist her, her husband, and I in this stage of her living. It has been the nuttiest time of transition as far as revelations go. Her husband and I have operated for soooo long on the terms that worked for him and I. "She'll eat at 11, 3 and 6", "Let's wake her up now and give her her meds", "I'll work from this time to this time due to beating the traffic home", "Schedule her an eye doctor's appointment", and so on and so on. But last week, this all changed. Her husband had wrote out a list with an objective friend. "She hasn't wanted to go out on the porch all Spring." "She hasn't wanted to go into the living room for months." "She didn't want to eat two days ago." "She wants the TV in the bedroom." "She didn't want to wake up til 1:30." While her ability to project her voice has waned, her actions have been loud and clear. She has been withdrawing for months, but it only has really hit her husband and I as of last week. She and I had a candid conversation about this. She said she wishes to be let go. I told her I was sorry that I had not been listening to her, but from here on out, I would be.
And so today, after having not have seen her since our last conversation, I listened. And it was amazing how differently she wants her life to go as opposed to how her husband and I had been running it. We used to wake her up at 11, take her blood sugars (she's diabetic), give her her insulin, read her Baha'i devotionals, get her breakfast, etc.. Today I went in there at 11, she wanted to sleep til noon. I went in there at noon, she was sound asleep. I checked on her at 12:30, 1, and then tried her again at 2. She stirred herself awake at 2:30. I asked her how I could help her, did she want food, did she want something to drink? She said she wanted her blood sugars checked, and she wanted me to read to her her devotionals. I did both...her blood sugars were fine, she knew it, I knew it, and she went back to sleep. She knew exactly what she wanted, and, oh, my goodness, I felt soooo much more freedom for her. I loved operating under her desires and not some formulaic schedule that worked a year ago, but no longer works now. I love that even with all her disabilities she is still able to choose what works for her. Her husband is a fix it kind of guy. He knows he has done all that he could do, and now his job is to make her comfortable and without pain. I was afraid that I was going to have to resist him on some of the new ways of doing things with hospice care, because he operates rather regimental, BUT he is on the same page as his wife and I. She calls the shots. We get the privilege to answer them.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
http://www.ajjacobs.com/content/home.asp
I finished over the July 4th weekend a book by AJ Jacobs--The Year of Living Biblically. He is the the editor for Esquire Magazine, an agnostic, a father of three and a full-fledged New Yorker. The book was incredible in many, many ways, but something that profoundly struck me as this man soared, trudged, nit-picked, uncovered his way through the Old and New Testament was this: He wound up more thankful than when he began. Not in a "Thank God I'm not one of those!" kind of way, but in a, "I'm thankful for this plate of food, I'm thankful for my wife, I'm thankful for the clothes on my back" kind of way. I was sooo tickled to read that this thing called the Bible affected someones life in that way. Reading scripture has been a part of my life for such a long time (albeit not with as much regularity as desired) that it becomes one thing, so it was uplifting to me that here was this agnostic who made the story and the people and the lessons=HIS LIFE for one year's length of time and he wound up more grateful than when he began. I won't tell you anymore. There are lots of beautiful and really funny insights. Just go read it.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Is ordinary okay?
I recently read that there is a strength to ordinariness.
The writer said that the strength to things that are ordinary are that they are long-lasting, sticking around, not going anywhere, they are, shall we say, faithful. I never even considered ordinary to have a strength because who really aims for ordinary? Ordinary has never been known to be compelling or really worth watching, right?
With that being said, I was listening to the radio on my way to work today. Katy Perry's song came on--"Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.)". The chorus reads: "Last Friday night, we danced on table tops and we took too many shots, think we kissed but I forgot. Last Friday night, we maxed our credit cards and we got kicked out of the bar, so we hit the boulevard. Last Friday night we went streaking in the park, skinny dipping in the dark, then had a menage a trois. Last Friday night, I think we broke the law...". Now, whoever wrote this song, I'm pretty sure they were intentionally trying to be over-the-top. I get it. But nothing about the singer's situation is ordinary, to say the least.
The next song that came on the radio was by Selena Gomez, "Who Says?". While the song at first seems to celebrate the imperfections of beauty and just being ordinary you, the bridge reads: "Who says you're not star potential? Who says you're not presidential? Who says you can't be in movies?" almost counteracting that all your ordinariness needs not to stay ordinary. You can be in movies. You could be the president. I do love that message in part. I want people to feel, believe, really, that they can do anything, but it's a quite a sensational message we are hearing. Don't just go over to your friend's house to eat popcorn and watch Dirty Dancing, that's boring. Aim for "Last Friday Night". And, yes, you are beautiful just being you, but shoot for becoming Leader of the Free World. That's a lot of pressure!
And here's what I'm getting at: Think of someone you really love.
I think of one of my most FAVORITE people in the whole wide world--my grandmother on my father's side. She was born, grew up, married, raised three children, buried her husband of almost 55 years=all in the same small town in Michigan. She and my grandfather bought one house, paid it off, bought cars with cash, the furthest she travelled from home was on a bus tour to Tennessee. I'm pretty sure she never danced on table tops or had a menage a trois. And the only thing she was ever president of was her T.O.P.S. club=a weight loss program she was apart of for years. But she shines. She is funny, wise, compassionate, thoughtful, understanding. She is good with money, sending me cards, and picking up the phone when I need her.
I get wrapped up with bells and whistles, I do. But it's a woman like my grandmother that sheds a new light on the strength of "ordinary". She could never be ordinary, or could she?
The writer said that the strength to things that are ordinary are that they are long-lasting, sticking around, not going anywhere, they are, shall we say, faithful. I never even considered ordinary to have a strength because who really aims for ordinary? Ordinary has never been known to be compelling or really worth watching, right?
With that being said, I was listening to the radio on my way to work today. Katy Perry's song came on--"Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.)". The chorus reads: "Last Friday night, we danced on table tops and we took too many shots, think we kissed but I forgot. Last Friday night, we maxed our credit cards and we got kicked out of the bar, so we hit the boulevard. Last Friday night we went streaking in the park, skinny dipping in the dark, then had a menage a trois. Last Friday night, I think we broke the law...". Now, whoever wrote this song, I'm pretty sure they were intentionally trying to be over-the-top. I get it. But nothing about the singer's situation is ordinary, to say the least.
The next song that came on the radio was by Selena Gomez, "Who Says?". While the song at first seems to celebrate the imperfections of beauty and just being ordinary you, the bridge reads: "Who says you're not star potential? Who says you're not presidential? Who says you can't be in movies?" almost counteracting that all your ordinariness needs not to stay ordinary. You can be in movies. You could be the president. I do love that message in part. I want people to feel, believe, really, that they can do anything, but it's a quite a sensational message we are hearing. Don't just go over to your friend's house to eat popcorn and watch Dirty Dancing, that's boring. Aim for "Last Friday Night". And, yes, you are beautiful just being you, but shoot for becoming Leader of the Free World. That's a lot of pressure!
And here's what I'm getting at: Think of someone you really love.
I think of one of my most FAVORITE people in the whole wide world--my grandmother on my father's side. She was born, grew up, married, raised three children, buried her husband of almost 55 years=all in the same small town in Michigan. She and my grandfather bought one house, paid it off, bought cars with cash, the furthest she travelled from home was on a bus tour to Tennessee. I'm pretty sure she never danced on table tops or had a menage a trois. And the only thing she was ever president of was her T.O.P.S. club=a weight loss program she was apart of for years. But she shines. She is funny, wise, compassionate, thoughtful, understanding. She is good with money, sending me cards, and picking up the phone when I need her.
I get wrapped up with bells and whistles, I do. But it's a woman like my grandmother that sheds a new light on the strength of "ordinary". She could never be ordinary, or could she?
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