The hospice nurse said it would be soon.
The social worker, though not a medical expert, had visited dying patients on many occasions and agreed with the nurse’s assessment.
The adult children who’d traveled back home and the patient’s sleep-deprived husband were sad, but understood. The family didn’t—like some do—fight about their wife and mother making one more trip to the clinic for one more treatment to battle the illness. They didn’t argue about “forcing” her to eat and drink more. The hospice team caring for this beloved wife and mother had become an important part of the family’s exhausted, already grieving lives. When these professionals said there might be her final hours, there was no reason to doubt or debate.
And then she woke up. The patient, who hadn’t spoken for days and hadn’t eaten for even longer, made a request that didn’t surprise any of her hovering, hurting family.
“Bring my purse,” she said. Read More →by