One of things hospice organizations rely on is donations, especially for those of us in the non-profit world. These donations generally come by way of organized fund raisers and memorials.
One particular memorial I will not forget. It had been a very busy day at our hospice house, several admissions and deaths. I had 2 medical students with me as well, so any spare moment was taken up teaching them little pearls of knowledge. Someone from the reception desk suddenly appeared in my periphery and motioned me saying, "Dr. C, would you have a minute to come receive a memorial up at the front".
This in itself was highly unusual, as typically families just sent memorials to us in the mail. I must have looked confused because our receptionist further clarified, "They asked if they could specifically present it to one of our doctors." Now I was getting excited, speculating that this must be quite a donation! I had visions of lottery winners being handed over sized checks, as cameras clicked and hands were shaken.
"Sure" I replied with enthusiasm, having the two medical students come with me so they could be wowed as well. Walking down our long hallway I was trying to speculate who it could be, and feeling just a bit nervous at this unusual request.
As I rounded the corner I encountered 4 people I knew quite well; John a mechanic in his 60's and his 3 adult children. We all hugged, as I began to recall the weeks I had spent caring for John's wife. John teared up a bit when he spoke up, "We just can't say enough about the care Dorothy received here. We wanted to personally present you with this donation so you can continue the good work you all do" His rugged grease stained hands passed me an envelope and he gave one last hug. I smiled then as he waited for me to open up their gift.
The moment I had seen that it was John, I knew that I had been foolish to dream up some giant donation. This was a family who lived in poverty, who spent everything they had on medical bills and Internet "cures" for Dorothy's cancer.
As I opened the envelope and saw the check for $25, and met the eager tear streaked faces of the family, so proud of what they had scraped together, I too cried.
Walking back down the hallway, one of the medical students who had observed this all, including my uncharacteristic display of emotion quipped, "Wow, that must have been a really big donation! How much was it?"
"A fortune" I said, and left it at that.
So beautiful, friend. Among all the suffering you must encounter each day I bet those moments get you through the day.
ReplyDeleteI found your blog through Gaby's blog. I am enjoying reading your touching posts. My brother in law died of pancreatic cancer last May and the experience with hospice was memorable. I like how you touchingly relate these stories -- so poignant. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI particularly like Katie's choice. It helped me process some of what I saw with my brother in law. We thought 6 days was long with no food and water -- I can't imagine four weeks. But we also saw him cry out when his 4 year old daughter was crying. That seemed to cause him more pain than the physical pain he was suffering through.
Thank you for your thoughtful entries. I was touched by the work of the hospice (in-home) workers and felt a pull & a tug in my heart. So I can relate to being drawn to this kind of care.