Bathing

I'm constantly in awe of the little things hospice does to help families cope.

Madame Olga was a true diva. A life long voice teacher, her two daughters' sole purpose in life was to cater to their mother's ego.  Madame Olga was well known and spent her life dedicated to her craft. She was still giving voice lessons at 97, a week before her stroke. It was obvious to the family that any physical impairment, let alone loosing the ability to sing, would be impossible to live with.  She came to the "house" to spend her final days.  Although mostly unresponsive, completely unable to communicate, every time the daughters would play their mother's music, her eyes would open and a tear would fall.

After she passed away, the nurse did what she always does; offered the daughters a chance to help the nurse bathe the body.  Hesitatingly, both daughters consented.

The experience was life changing. They both later told how that symbolic act of cleaning their mother's body, helped both of them let go. The eldest, Gertrude, though in her late 60's had spent her whole life taking care of her mother, to the neglect of her own life. As she bathed the lifeless body before her, she wept and verbally forgave her mother. The bathing ritual was a way to cleanse her own soul of the harbored resentment at the larger-than-life mother who was never good at being "mom".  As both daughters cleaned her wrinkled strong hands, and washed her crooked feet, they were also able to reminisce and say  a final good bye.

Cleaning, bathing and preparing a body after death has been a part of cultures for ages. It is only in our modern death denying culture that we've delegated the task to others. It's refreshing for me to hear that hospice at least offers the option. For some, like the daughters I met, it was one of the most meaningful experiences of their lives. 

I see odd things everyday.

He was an elderly man sitting in his clinic gown with his legs crossed -shoes and socks still on.  What was striking however, was the shimmery pink nail polish in patches on his face. "What doctor referred you to our dermatology clinic?" I asked.  "Aww, no one. I came on my own"  (always a bad sign - if no other doctor is worried about what ever his complaint would be).  "Well then, what's your concern?" He then enters into his story :

"There are these things, maybe like bugs, inside me that lay eggs.  Then in 24 to 36 hours they hatch and come out and crawl all over my face"  I am trying to keep a straight face as I ask, "How many of these things are we talking about?"  "Millions"  "Wow, and what do they look like?"  He scrunches his head to decide how to tell me, hesitates then says "You can't really see them with the naked eye, only with a magnifying glass or microscope"  I am now envisioning this old man in an overstuffed arm chair in his home peering at his arm with a magnifying glass. He continues "I guess they are kind of clear with a brown head" He actually starts drawing something on paper that looks like a cigarette.  "like this, I try to catch em as they burrow into my knuckles" He starts picking at his knuckles as he complains, "the worst tho is I can't sleep, I can feel them crawling all over my face all night."   The poor man had changed all of his sheets and clothes over and over again. He'd fumigated his house. These creatures didn't itch or actually bite him, just crawled and burrowed. "And the nail polish?" I quipped staring at his face which looked like a 3 year old had played make-up with him. "Oh that's too keep them inside, keep them from coming out and crawling. A friend told me it'd help."  

He actually had something dermatologists see often. It's called delusions of parasitosis. As is typical the "bugs" started crawling around 2 weeks after his wife died.  It's often connected to depression.  Interesting way for depression to manifest itself huh? I get spooked just when a hair brushes over me and I think it's a bug- I'll swat my arm or leg and scream.  Can you imagine literally feeling the sensation of hundreds of bugs moving all over your face and arms.  And more alarming, not being able to see them?  I guess I might try putting pink shiny nail polish on me face too : )