Partners.
To the public, the word conjures up thoughts of spouses and business associates. In EMS we think of our partner as the person who always has your back. That person you work with, day in day out. The one you learn from, and who learns from you.
One does not normally think of EMS and hospice as partners, working together in the community. I know I didn’t, especially at first. That all changed when I took a position with a new employer.
Recently I’ve been privileged to become a part of a private ambulance service that holds a contract with two of the larger local hospice facilities. At first I was conflicted. I came into this profession wanting to fix people, to help them get better. To serve the community. While thankfully my sparkier days are behind me, it still seemed wrong. What could I do to help these folks? I would be taking them somewhere so that they could die.
I didn’t think there was anything I could do for them … until I went on my first hospice run.
Just three months before, he had been working 40 hours a week. Gardening, playing with his grandchildren, even bowling on a league a few nights a week. Now his body was betraying him. He was riddled with cancer. After exhausting all of the treatments available to him, his oncologist told him that he had maybe another month or two to live. In excruciating pain, and not wanting to burden his family any more, he alone made the decision to enter the inpatient hospice facility.
The family was not dealing with his decision well. His adult children fought over whether or not this was the right thing to do. His wife sat shell shocked, unable to come to terms with losing her best friend. Their Father, her husband, our patient, remained resolute.
We were called to transport him. The family would follow us in their cars. When I was finally alone with him in the back of the truck, all he wanted to talk about was the New York Yankees. Not about cancer. Not about alternative treatments. Not about his life expectancy. He just wanted to talk about his beloved Yankees.
That’s what he needed the most from me. I wasn’t going to cure him. I wasn’t going to be able to help him with pain control. I wasn’t going to solve the tension between his children. But for 15 minutes, in the back of a bumpy ambulance, I was able to distract him from reality. Even if it was at my expense; he teased me mercilessly about my obsession with Derek Jeter. As we were preparing to leave him in his new room, he grabbed my hand and said, ‘Thank you, young lady. It’s a wonderful thing you are doing.’
All I could reply was, ‘You’re welcome.’ I squeezed his hand back.
I’ve been told that part of being a good EMT is realizing that there is always something to be learned from an experience. From every interaction with a patient or a facility. Working with hospice has proven that to me time and time again. In some ways these experiences have provided me with some of the most useful education I’ve ever received.
I’ve learned more about communicating with patients and their families in the last five months than I’ve learned in four years of working in EMS. It doesn’t matter how many dosages you have memorized or the number of treatments you can provide, if you can’t communicate with people, you will never be effective as an EMT or a Paramedic.
I am proud to be a part of a partnership with hospice. I’m honored that I’m being trusted to take care of these patients in their most fragile state. It’s been both a humbling and rewarding experience, and one that I’ll never forget.
Well said and job well done Epi!
It took me a long time to realize that “fixing” is not always a part of what I was meant to do! Just being there and listening sometimes is what our duty was to carry out for the day!
Thank you, so much :)
You’re a kind soul… friend…
We did our fair share of hospice transfers at the little ambulance that could. I still struggle with some of them. You can get so much closer to a patient by talking than treating.
I remember voices and faces and words. I remember tears, too.
Your patients are lucky, despite their circumstances. You’re patients could have got me… but they got YOU!
Hey M3….
It’s the cry that the families do… When they realize that their loved one is gone. That’s what gets me.
And thank you, you are entirely too kind.
I learned a long time ago that patient advocacy means looking out for the patient’s wishes as much as it means looking out for their welfare. In times where we see nursing homes full of people with no quality of life, I wholeheartedly support the wishes of my patients not to end up that way. If it were me, I would hope someone would defend my choices when I cannot. It’s hard to sit by when your patient is dying and there’s nothing you can do. It takes a strong provider babe. Give them whatever they need – even if it is the Yankees!
“Even if it is the Yankees!”
Hehehehhehehe. That’s why I love ya girly :)
Epi, I can’t ever say it enough. You amaze me. You heart is bigger than the state of Alaska, your drive is stronger than 100 men and that compassion could bring world peace.
Every time I hear the tones, I strive to be as caring, nurturing, loving and tender-hearted as you are. This world is by far a better place because you are in it.
And please stop making me cry. ;)
That was hands down the best compliment anyone has ever given me, Bernice. The fact that it came from you means that much more… Thank you so much.
*slips Bernice $100*
Epi- One of life’s BIG lessons is you can’t fix em all… The best you can do for some is a few moments of peace, like you did for this gentleman. Thank you for being there!
Epi,
I’m truly honored to know you through your writings and otherwise. The amount of compassion and care you have for others is simply amazing and cannot be put to words. It is this that sets you apart from other medics, and people in general.
Don’t ever stop doing what you are doing. You do it all too well. Those lives you have touched, I’m certain they are most grateful.
Hospice pt have always been hard for me handle, they never cease to amaze me…