When I used my recent grocery-store conversation as an introduction to last week\u2019s blog, I was reminded of another in-store conversation I had just before COVID hit last year. After that exchange, I remember thinking there was some interesting material for a column and when I returned home, I made notes in my \u201cfuture blog\u201d notebook. Following is a synopsis of that spontaneous meeting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We made eye contact at the same time \u2013 she looked familiar, but I had no idea from where. She walked toward me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo I know you?\u201d I asked, sensing the answer would be yes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAren\u2019t you Mrs. Johnson?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes I am.\u201d Still no clue of her identity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then she told me her name and added, \u201cWe used to go to Trinity together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Oh, yes\u2026a church we attended almost 20 years ago. I only vaguely remembered her face and name and was surprised that she recognized me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI always enjoyed your caregiving columns in the newspaper but had to stop taking it because the subscription rate went up so much. Do you still write it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So, that\u2019s how she recognized me \u2013 from my byline photo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I told her about the editor deciding I was \u201ctoo Christian\u201d for his newspaper and dug in my purse for a business card for the website, wondering if she had access. She must have read my thoughts and noted that even though she didn\u2019t have many technical skills, her son who lives with her could help her get online. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sensing a long chat was forthcoming, we simultaneously pushed our carts to an area where we would not be in the way of other customers. Immediately, she began to share from her heart, and I purposed to listen. Her caregiving days ended two years earlier when her husband, after many years of failing health, died peacefully at their home. \u201cI still miss him every day. I am so glad I was able to take care of him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFor the last several months of his life he was on dialysis three days a week, four hours at a time. He didn\u2019t respond well and was always miserable during the sessions. They left him drained.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She paused for a moment, sighing at the memory. \u201cAt first, I would use those four hours to run some errands but once the session had ended early and he was so anxious. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
So, of course, after that I always stayed close by.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She told me that Hospice had been called in to help her at home and was so grateful for this benefit. \u201cThey provided many basic supplies, such as briefs when he became incontinent, and other equipment that made it easier for me to keep him home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHowever,\u201d she continued, \u201cI was very careful about medications.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
This was followed by a detailed account of a friend\u2019s experience when her husband was receiving end-of-life care. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe came to me, so upset, because she had reported to the hospice nurse that her husband seemed as if his pain was getting much worse. The nurse gave him some Morphine and a short time later her husband died.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She told me how her friend regretted telling the nurse her husband\u2019s pain was worse; this had caused her to feel a great deal of sorrow and guilt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo, when the nurse asked me about my husband\u2019s pain, I would never tell her it was worse. It was the middle of December, and I was really hoping and praying he would live through Christmas. When the nurse came to the house for her visit, she asked me how much longer I thought he would live. I shared my hope with her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When she told me the nurse\u2019s replay, I was shocked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSorry to burst your bubble, honey, but he\u2019s not gonna make it,\u201d she somberly recalled the nurse\u2019s declaration. She took a deep breath. \u201cAnd he didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I shook my head in sorrowful disbelief. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Needless to say, I think the nurse\u2019s response was\u2026lacking. She needs to find some new, more empathetic words\u2026and forego the flippant attitude. Experience has taught me that often health-care workers become calloused to their responsibilities, forgetting that what may be every-day life and death situations for them are solemn once-in-a-lifetime encounters for those they serve. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Once again, I was grateful for the opportunity \u2013 chance as it was \u2013 to listen to a caregiver share her heart. Sometimes we all need to do that. I count it a privilege to provide a listening ear, and I always try to learn something that I can share with others on their caregiving journey. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Caring Scripture<\/strong>: \u2026He who is wise listens. Proverbs 12:15<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" When I used my recent grocery-store conversation as an introduction to last week\u2019s blog, I was reminded of another in-store conversation I had just before COVID hit last year. After that exchange, I remember thinking there was some interesting material for a column and when I returned home, I made notes in my \u201cfuture blog\u201d notebook. Following is a synopsis of that spontaneous meeting. We made eye contact at the same time \u2013 she looked familiar, but I had no idea…<\/p>\n