This is not a role unique to the social worker, by any means. Nurses, aides, spiritual counselors, volunteers, and others all provide this role of “presence” to the patient and the family. And being with or being present to the family can be a great challenge to us all, especially in a society that is most often all about “doing” and “fixing.”
I thought I
might share with you a story about a time when I quite unexpectedly had the
opportunity to practice presence. I had
arrived at a family’s home with the expressed request and plan to work with the
patient’s spouse on completing FMLA (Family & Medical Leave Act) documentation
for her employer.
When I
arrived, the spouse and her daughter said that the patient was declining
rapidly and speaking very little. Also,
they said his breathing had changed. The patient seemed to be gasping for
breath, and they were uncertain about what they should do. At the request of the patient’s spouse, I
entered the patient’s room. He appeared
to be struggling to breathe, and his breathing sounded like gurgling. It had been some time since I had been
present in the room while someone was actively dying, but I was fairly certain
that was what was happening. The wife
and daughter were very anxious, so I encouraged them to call the RN.
The RN
recommended they locate the oxygen concentrator, to provide the patient with
some oxygen, and said she would arrive soon.
While his spouse and daughter went looking for the concentrator, I remained
in the room with the patient, my hand gently laid on his arm. Even in the short space of time they
were looking for the concentrator, the patient’s breathing changed again. The spaces between his inhales became fewer
and farther between, his breath slowing dramatically.
When his
wife and daughter returned to the room, I told them that my experience
suggested that the patient was taking his last few breaths, and perhaps it
would be more important for them to simply hold him and talk to him gently,
tell them they loved him, and that they would be alright. The family gathered around him and held and
spoke with him while I remained in the background of the room as the patient
peacefully and quietly died. It was a
powerful moment for the family as well as for me, being in the room with the
patient as he let go of life. I felt grateful and honored to be a part of
his death.
There was
nothing for me “to do” in this instance.
My role was merely to be a presence for the patient and the family at
the time. We social workers often find
ourselves in this role, and it includes being attuned to the needs of the
people in the moment we are there and practicing good listening skills, hearing
not just what is said, but what is not said, noting what is happening in the
moment as well as what is not happening.
And, often there are no obvious rewards. After her husband’s death,
the wife thanked me for my presence and witnessing of her husband’s death.
I look
forward to sharing more social work stories with you in the future.
By Carol
Miller, Hospice Social Worker
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