I got up early and after walking the dogs, Roger and I drove to Llandudno. I had to take my DBS paperwork in to HR and needed to complete my online mandatory training, something I cannot access on nights or at weekends as I needed the aid of their help desk.
Roger proved to be a wow with the secretarial and managerial staff and after some initial nerves
Slowly got used to the adulation, closing his eyes to the mew mews of the ladies .
I took him to the bedside of one patient who I had discussed his progress with.
Much is said regrading disclosing your private life to patients , but in the hospice some idle banter about ordinary things can often be a great leveller to patients undergoing stress towards their end of life.
I shared stories of Roger’s small adventures after coming to the cottage and she had offered me some sage advice of how to deal with a dog not blessed with a huge brain.
Like most of my Welsh who visited patients, Roger was gentle and inquisitive with my patient.
He lay next to her, with his paws either side of her elbow and he let her pat his head gently with a boney hand without playing with the tie on her nightdress sleeve which dangled before him
She coo cooed at him quietly, telling him how smart he looked and she didn’t turn her head away when a single tear ran down the side of her face beside her ear.
Roger sniffed her face gently as she called out “ My sweet, sweet boy “
…and it was me who turned away and pretended I hadn’t noticed.
from Going Gently https://ift.tt/AlNvcig
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