I usually get back home soon after nine am after the first long dog walk to the day
And I spied Mrs C standing by the kitchen wall seeing if I was about.
She wanted my “ professional “ thoughts on something so I left the dogs in the car and invited her for tea.
Mrs C ‘s father is poorly in hospital. He has covid and is not expected to recover and Mrs C, who is in her early sixties wanted to know just what a syringe driver did and why fluids had been stopped on her father.
The nurse looking after him overnight had been attentive but silent and Mrs C felt as though her questions , of which there were many, could not be asked.
This sort of night nurse I always refer to as The Silent Nun . As death is approaching they glide around as if invisible , say little but always looking solemn and quietly supportive.
It’s as though death is something purely something to be an awe of.
Instead of something normal, albeit it often earth shattering .
I am often surprised just how few people have seen a death up close.
In these days of expert resus both at home and in hospitals many people are treatable over and above their normal life expectancies. The times where granny is gently fading away in a single bed in the corner of the living room seems more of a rarity as it was , and with our busy lives and fragmented families many moments of death are missed or sanitized or both .
The Silent Nun can compound this distancing by giving death a overwhelmingly devout miss en scene .
There has to be a balance of course.
But in my experience death and the process of dying has to be talked about and explained as a normal yet hugely significant undertaking.
I make it a point to ask if the relative has been in this position before. If they haven’t I tend to ask if they want me to be outline what to expect, and the answer invariably is yes.
Patterns of breathing, noisy secretions, agitation, all manner of scary things can be explained in layman’s terms and plans can be discussed for treatments to alleviate some of the symptoms seen.
The relative is brought into the treatment plans for their loved one, they can understand why something is being done ( or not) and by being part of that plan can feel less helpless within the situation.
I answered some of Mrs C ‘s main questions and encouraged her to clarify some others with the ward staff when she returned to the hospital this morning and as she drank her tea I remembered the words of a support worker who I worked with eons ago now. She must be long time dead herself . But she always brought into a family vigil a pot of tea, with a small jug of milk and a sugar bowl with spoons. Cups , coffee, saucers , biscuits on a plate
The works …
“ it always gives the family something to do” she explained “ sorting out the crockery and pouring the tea”
from Going Gently https://ift.tt/0cJwdUr
