Happiness, Joy, & Some Sadness

Ladies and gentlemen, I am almost finished with my required number of "sticks". I am now doing them all by myself. Holy Moly Bud. I swear, last year I could sell you an airplane ticket. This year, I can draw your blood! I've drawn blood on a few occasions on three different people and they all said they didn't feel anything. So I guess that is good news! Seriously, I think I've "grown up" these past few months because I never in my life EVER thought I would enjoy phlebotomy. But I do. Ok, I'm weird.

We are also mastering injections. Intramuscular, intradermal, and subcutaneous. These poor oranges. My hands stink after I'm finished even with rubber gloves. I apologize to Florida Oranges and their counterparts.

Well, I do have some sad news. My patient on hospice passed away on Monday evening. Luckily, I was able to spend time with him and his family. I am able to speak a little about him because the family signed a release because this is going to be in our hospice newsletter. I just can't mention names or diagnosis. This gentleman was 80 years old and he was love. He wrote about a hundred poems over the course of his lifetime about his wife, his children, and life in general. The project I did was take all of them, sort them into some type of order, I typed them all up, added photos and printed them up and put them into a book for him. When he saw it, it brought tears to his eyes. I had to hold it up for him because he was too weak. But his sons and I read him the poems. He just kept saying "thank you, thank you, God bless you". This may have been the most rewarding experience. I had my doubts that "hospice" was my thing because it is a very sad time. But, in fact, it is a rewarding time because you are giving the patient peace and love. I don't know guys, but this may be where my heart really is. We shall see.

This past weekend was the last day that I saw him alive. I knew it was the end. When I got there, he was sitting up. He never sat up in my prescence. He asked if I could help him out of bed. In my mind, I was thinking that he was getting better. My heart knew differently. From what I learned during training was that this burst of energy meant it was the end. Normally one of his two sons were there when I went to his house. This time his nephew was there. To honor his request, we helped him out of bed, into his wheelchair, and pushed him out into his living room. He wanted us to open the door so he could get fresh air. The look on his face looked like we gave him a million dollars. He was in his living room, sitting up, looking around. He was so inquisitive. He absolutely loved it. Before I left, I was sitting with him. He always loved to hold my hand. His nephew came back into the room and said to him, "Look at you Uncle ____, you were always the ladies man." Too cute!

Before I left, I read him a poem that I made up for him. he told me over and over thank you and how beautiful it was. He told me that "all poems are treasures."

When I went to his wake last night, his sons and daughter were there. They all cried in my arms. I was a mess after the three of them did that. They couldn't thank me enough for the book that they said they "will treasure forever". After I spoke with the children, I went up to his coffin, he was finally at peace. Right next to his coffin on a pedestal was the book of poems. My heart almost bursted. His words will live on forever.

I will never forget his ice-blue eyes staring up at me when I read him poems. I will never forget the fraile hand that I held while we talked and while we prayed. I will never forget the smile that he gave me. Rest in peace my poetry friend.