What the dying know....

What the dying know…..

I am no stranger to death. As a hospice nurse, I have seen many, many patients of mine die. Some die when I leave, some die when I turn my back and some die right in front of me. Each death is unique. They are never the same.

Most people equate death with sadness, loneliness and mourning. Not me. My view of death is quite different. Death is a wonderful time of life. Of course, only if you believe. Believe in an afterlife, believe that we are merely a temporary fixture on this earth and believe that there is certainly something better to come. It is a time when most families come together and reminisce. Reminisce about growing up, their childhood, their relationships and always happy times.

There are people who leave this world screaming and crying out, while others close their eyes and transition with a smile on their face. Transition. I like to view death as a mere transition. Why, because most every death I have witnessed in my years of nursing are pleasant. Families aren’t pleasant. Families are crying and trying to squeeze in every last word and feeling of love and emotion they can muster. Most families and loved ones are not happy. We are sad. Our sadness is selfish. Selfish, because we are not happy that the dying are tired and are moving on to a better place. We have a very difficult time accepting that they must move on. Our sadness is for ourselves. We are sad because the dying will not be part of our life any more. We will have no one to check on or take care of. No one to know our stories and tell us they love us.

Weeks, days or even hours before the transition, most of the deaths I have witnessed, call out to relatives who have passed on. It is usually a parent that the dying call out too. Once, I had a beautiful 91 year old lady who was under my care for 3 months. Two weeks prior to her death, in a very matter of fact way, she informed me that her son had come to get her. Her three daughters were baffled, not only by the things she was saying, but by her actions. In her last few days, she was no longer cognizant. She was unaware of anyone was around her. However, for 3 days, she carefully cradled in her arms something unseen to those around her. This beautiful soul passed away with her three daughters by her side. She appeared to be comfortable and content. What more could anyone ask for. It was at her funeral that her younger sister shared her sisters story, prior to having her three daughters, she had delivered a stillborn son. She never shared this with her daughters despite them all being registered nurses. I am not sure why, but it was during her transition she was reunited with her son who had passed away 70 years prior.

Another patient I had was a 45 year old lady who had three children ranging in age from 16 to 23. Her family took care of her and never left her side after she was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer. She gave it her all, mastectomies, chemo therapy and radiation but treatments were ineffective. Refusing pain medications were hard on her family, but were harder on her. She wanted to be “in her right mind” as long as possible. As her hospice nurse, I did all I could to make her as comfortable as possible for as long as possible without administering intravenous morphine in an attempt to dull her pain. On one of my visits, her family had left the room while I was there. It was then that she confided in me that Jesus had come to visit her the previous night. She said that Jesus stood at the foot of her bed and told her everything would be alright and that she should not worry about her children. Jesus left her, telling her that he would see her very soon. She asked me not to tell her family, as she did not want to upset them more than they already were. Two days later, she passed away, family by her side. I knew where she was, and I knew who she was with. I was happy for her. When her family called to let me know she had passed away, I rushed to their home, prepared the body for the funeral home and whispered in her ear “I hope you enjoy your journey”. It is possible to shed tears with a smile on your face. I have done it many times.

Two years ago when my own father lay dying from Pancreatic cancer, my mother, sister and I were somewhat alarmed to see my father, who had been unresponsive for three days, bolt upright, eyes wide and shout “Mother”! As startling as it was at the time, I knew that it was my grandmother, his mother, who was waiting for him. That gave the three of us a great sense of peace to know that he would be escorted during his transition by his own mother who he had not seen since her death 30 year prior.

We all view death differently and we all have our own experiences. My hope is that when it is my time to transition, someone comes for me.