Tag: End of Life Care

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There is more than one way to die with dignity

By Ing Wong-Ward

“Who are you here to see?”

On this day, I was at Mount Sinai Hospital, in the oncology ward. The receptionist I usually check in with wasn’t at her desk. I was being greeted by a volunteer. Dark hair, wide eyes and a smile like a child’s doll. High school co-op student, maybe?

I handed over my health card and told her my doctor’s name.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who she is. What are you here for?”

Her smile widens.

“Because I’m a patient?” I retort.

I know I’m being rude. But it’s an oncology ward. What does she think I’m here for? To discuss the weather? The shortage of wheelchair-accessible parking spaces in the lot?

What I really want to say is, my doctor is a palliative-care specialist. I’m seeing her because I have cancer. I’m preparing for my death.

I don’t look like I have cancer, let alone the incurable kind. I have all my hair. My friends and husband assure me my colour is good. Dressed in my normal clothes and not the pajamas I currently favour, I look reasonably well – for a middle-aged woman who also has spinal muscular atrophy, a congenital neuromuscular condition.

I rely on a motorized wheelchair to get around and need personal support workers to assist me in all aspects of daily living. It’s been this way forever, but now I have colon cancer, and two external abdominal bags to collect various bodily fluids.

This, to put it mildly, complicates things.

My palliative-care doctor is a compassionate young woman who wouldn’t look out of place in a medical drama. She has been guiding me through my own recent hospital drama: I was readmitted to hospital a couple of weeks earlier, for yet another emergency.

I’ve been fighting off a major abdominal abscess for more than a year now. At one point, my abscess was so large, one of my doctors admitted surprise that I was upright. This is what initially led to my cancer diagnosis. A colon biopsy confirmed the cancer was malignant. In October, I was told my cancer was inoperable, despite 28 rounds of radiation.

At least it’s not metastatic. Localized, but nowhere else. For now, anyway. Plus, my surgeon tells me, I likely have years with this cancer. Not months or weeks, like some of his other patients.

The challenge now is the infection associated with the abscess. During this current crisis, antibiotics are working. What my surgeon can’t tell me is when the next infection will hit, or when antibiotics may fail.

Some patients reinfect every month, he tells me. I’ve done well, he adds. I tell him I couldn’t handle being hospitalized every month. He acknowledges I would need to evaluate my quality of life, if this became my reality. In that moment, my decision to seek palliative care early seems the smartest decision I’ve made in a while.

Like most Canadians, I had limited understanding of palliative care before I had cancer. To me, “palliative care” was synonymous with “you are about to die.”

That’s not the case. On my first palliative visit, the doctor explains the word is Latin for “to cloak.” She personally likes that, seeing her role as guide and protector to patients who are coping with the most difficult time of their lives.

I need her guidance. There is no clear path around how to deal with cancer while living with a disability. I’m used to being disabled. It’s my normal. My quality of life up to now has been exceptional, complete with a husband I adore, a sweet, sassy daughter and a brand-new career.

Like everyone else diagnosed with cancer, my life has suddenly imploded. I find myself in this new world, navigating how to continue while knowing the end is coming much sooner than I’d like.

That’s why I’ve sought out palliative care. My own research leads me to studies showing that having a palliative-care expert can help me prolong my quality of life through the management of symptoms, such as pain that I know will likely worsen over time. My family doctor concurs, telling me outright that I need this.

This new relationship has enabled me to talk about my greatest fears. After my conversation with my surgeon, I fear dying slowly of sepsis, waiting for my organs to fail. I’ve agreed to a Do Not Resuscitate order, which ensures I won’t be hooked up to machines in the ICU, prolonging The End.

During this particular admission to hospital and based on what my surgeon has said, my choices seem stark. Down the road, I could die slowly from an infection that will shut down my organs, or sign up for a medically assisted death.

Then, my palliative-care doctor arrives at my bedside. She points out I have bounced back from severe, acute episodes before. She also knows I don’t want an assisted death and takes the time to explain there are options available, such as palliative sedation, a process where I can have large doses of morphine to keep me comfortable. She firmly tells me I am not close to needing this. My goal needs to be focused on getting better and getting home, to my daughter.

As she explains this, I start to relax. She’s given me the window I need to live my life, as compromised as it now is. It is not the life I would have chosen, but it still has meaning. My task now is to figure out what that meaning is. And her task is to help me to define my priorities while maximizing the quality of my life with medical therapies and emotional support.

It’s an interesting time to be thinking of my life as a person who is both disabled and has cancer. Less than two years ago, the federal government enacted a new law enabling Canadians with incurable conditions, whose death is foreseeable and are suffering irremediably, to ask a doctor to end their lives.

It’s been called “dying in dignity,” but for me, that’s not the way I want to go, at the hands of a doctor, wielding a poisoned syringe.

I believe no one with a terminal illness should be forced to endure suffering – but, if there is one lesson for me in the past year, death is not the only way to alleviate suffering. Managing physical suffering feels like traveling a winding road. Some days, it feels never-ending; other days, manageable, almost like the life I had before. Some days are so bad, I’m convinced death really is the only relief, but I’m brought back to reality when I think of what I could miss out on.

My life is definitely smaller now. I doubt I will ever work full-time again. I barely leave my apartment. Thanks to my father’s financial generosity, my husband has been able to take unpaid leave from his work to be with me. The time we spend together is precious. Even in its ordinariness, it is meaningful.

I appreciate the world differently now. It is as though time has slowed for me to see the small details of life, whether it be the softness of my bed sheets or watching snow drift down through my apartment window.

I’m trying to live with dignity, as I always have, despite the very real medical indignities I have been subjected to.

Which is why it dismays me greatly there are continuing attempts to make it easier for people without terminal conditions to ask a doctor to end their life. It dismays me that a lobby organization calling itself Dying With Dignity is not actively lobbying for increased access to palliative and hospice care, or advocating for more community supports for people with disabilities to live as productively as possible. In other words, to live with dignity.

We are all going to die, but before we do, each one of us has a right to a good quality of life, even to the very end. Yet too many Canadians do not have adequate access to palliative and hospice care. The lobbying efforts of those to equalize this are rarely discussed in our media.

I’ve chosen my path, thanks to the help of empathetic doctors and my own advocacy. My hope now is that more Canadians have the right to do the same, without the implied suggestion there is only one real way to die with dignity.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Facing finality: it’s important to plan for your final days

A recent survey reveals that seniors and their adult children often do not take the necessary steps to plan for their final years of life.

By Cory Fisher

[D]espite the fact that most seniors have very specific ideas regarding how things should be handled when it comes to their care at the end of life, a surprising number have not shared this information with their offspring.

Too often seniors and adult children are eager to avoid the topic and therefore do not take the steps necessary to plan for the final years of life — including getting financial affairs in order and creating plans for care when a senior’s health inevitably begins to decline.

A new survey by Home Instead, Inc. found that while 73 percent of seniors have a written will, only 13 percent have actually made arrangements for long-term care. Additionally, 79 percent of seniors are more comfortable planning for their funerals than planning for when they need full-time care or hospice.

New research reveals it’s the children who feel the most awkward about broaching the subject of a parent’s final wishes. Even as parents approach their final years, adult children still find it hard to accept their parents’ mortality and believe the topic might be upsetting to parents or grandparents.

Yet once the subject has been broached, a 2017 survey of 505 seniors age 75 and over, and 510 adults between the ages of 45 and 69 revealed something quite different. A whopping 88 percent of seniors said discussing plans for their final years made them feel closer to their adult children, and 97 percent of adults who helped with their parents’ planning said it “gave them peace of mind that things would go okay.”

Those end-of-life fears that lead to avoidance only delay the inevitable. In most cases, adult children will be monitoring their parents’ care and the more information they have, the better.

Research, as well as Home Instead Senior Care experts say there are ways to combat those fears. Talk it out, don’t wait for a crisis, put a plan in place, consult experts on end-of-life issues and follow the “40-70 Rule,” which means that if you are at least 40, or your parents are at least 70, it’s time to start about certain senior topics.

Some of the most common fears experienced by seniors, according to research compiled by Home Instead, Inc., include:

  • Fear No. 1: “I hate the thought of having feeding tubes and ventilators keeping me alive.”

What you can do about it: Consider establishing a living will. Living wills detail an individual’s treatment preferences in the event he or she is unable to make those decisions. Many lawyers will prepare a living will as part of an estate planning package.

  • Fear No. 2: “I’m afraid I will end up in a nursing home, and I don’t want to die in a hospital or institution.”

What you can do about it: There are many options for end of life care outside of nursing homes and hospitals. Adult children can help their parents research home care options so the entire family is prepared when the time comes.

  • Fear No. 3: “What if I get dementia and can no longer make my own decisions?”

What you can do about it: It’s wise to have seniors designate a trusted person with power of attorney who will act on their behalf in the event that they are no longer able to advocate for themselves. This will give them peace of mind that their care wishes will be met regardless of their mental acuity.

For adult children, experts suggest the best way to address the end-of-life fears is to communicate clearly with parents about their wishes way in advance. Record specific discussions by taking notes, which could be helpful when making decisions in the future.

For those who feel a great deal of anxiety surrounding this topic, Home Instead offers free resources to encourage seniors and their adult children to talk together about important life plans, which can include end-of-life care, finances, insurance and funeral planning.

A novel component of the free resources offered includes a music generated feature entitled, “Compose Your Life Song.” The light-hearted online exercise, which can be found at http://www.caregiverstress.com/end-of-life-planning/compose-life-song/my-song/, can help families broach difficult subjects more easily.

After completing the activity, seniors are presented with their own customized “song” and accompanying resources that will help them reflect on their personal preparedness during their final years.

The song is a great way to gracefully transition into more serious topics, said Buck Shaw, owner of the Home Instead Senior Care office serving Sacramento, Nevada, Placer and El Dorado counties.

“It’s fun — I’ve done it myself,” he said. “It’s a very basic questionnaire that is a nice blend of topics. It’s so important to talk about these things — I can’t tell you how often I’ve seen families have disagreements when plans aren’t in place. One part of the family thinks grandpa wants one thing, while the other side thinks the opposite.

“It creates an awkward division of the family. I’ve even seen very educated people — doctors and teachers — arguing with relatives who are trying to keep grandpa alive when he was good to go. This can cause rifts in the family that are hard to repair.”

Participants who go online to create their own song respond “yes” or “no” to thought-provoking statements, such as, “I have checked off an item on my bucket list in the past year,” “I frequently visit with people whose company I enjoy,” “I have talked to my family about my end-of-life wishes” and “I have established a will and advanced directives.” This can open the door to deeper, more constructive conversations, said Shaw.

“About 77 percent of adult children think their parents have plans in place, while only 50 percent do,” he said. “In the long run, if we become advocates for seniors, we all win in the end. It’s all about raising awareness and doing the right thing.”

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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How complementary therapies can positively impact end-of-life care

By Mary K. Spengler

One of the most common misconceptions about end-of-life care is that the focus is solely on pain management. While that is a key component of any hospice care program, many providers, including Hospice of Westchester, recognize the importance of a holistic approach to treating the patient, not just their symptoms. It is a proven fact that patients diagnosed with a life-limiting illness greatly benefit from alternative therapies, in addition to medical treatment.

Often called complementary care, these therapies can maximize patients’ comfort and peace of mind and provide relief for their primary caregivers.

Caring for the “whole” patient is an essential feature of hospice. Mind-body complementary therapies such as massage, reflexology, music therapy, art therapy and pet therapy can help ease tension, reduce anxiety levels and improve the overall comfort of the patient.

A good hospice provider should arrange for these therapies to be provided in the patient’s residence, whether that be their home, a hospital or a skilled nursing facility. Together, the patient, their family and hospice team decide which therapy would best address symptoms of pain, stress and anxiety.

We are proud to offer all of the above therapies, at no cost to our patients, through The Anna & Louis H. Shereff Complementary Care Program. While they all can be useful depending on a patient’s needs, here is a closer look at how massage therapy and reflexology can positively benefit hospice patients and their families.

MASSAGE THERAPY
It is widely accepted that power of touch can have a healing impact on pain and decrease stress. Massage is a form of structured therapeutic touch, which can relax patients, relieve muscle tension, reduce anxiety levels and blood pressure, boost the immune system and moisturize the skin.

Licensed massage therapist Maria MacIlvane first recognized the positive effect of touch years before she started her massage career. When her mother was on hospice care, MacIlvane was awed that simply rubbing her mother’s shoulders would instantly bring upon relaxation.

“I continued to massage her every day. It was so beneficial and I could not believe that just touching someone compassionately could affect the process they were going through so deeply,” MacIlvane said.

After the death of her husband in 2007, MacIlvane needed a change and wanted to pursue a career she was truly passionate about. She became a licensed massage therapist in 2010 and expanded her therapies to hospice patients three years ago.

MacIlvane said there are many benefits of massage therapy on patients diagnosed with a life-limiting illness, including helping with muscle tension, circulation and anxiety. She also works with patients’ family members to teach them what they can do in between sessions to help their loved one, and even gives them tips for acupressure that can help with their own anxiety and stress.

“When patients know that someone is with them, holding their hand and providing a compassionate touch, the effects are amazing,” MacIlvane said.

REFLEXOLOGY
Reflexology is based on the belief that specific areas of the feet and hands correspond with specific parts of the body. Gentle stimulation of these areas with the thumbs and fingers relieves stress and tension, improves circulation, promotes normal body function and results in a feeling of deep relaxation.

Gabrielle Zale, a nationally certified reflexologist, began working with hospice patients shortly after starting her career 17 years ago. However, her knowledge of how touch could help those with an illness started many years earlier. She remembered how people pulled away from her own mother when she was sick, as if they were afraid to touch her.

“No one should feel that alone,” Zale said. “Ultimately, touch is the greatest healer, particularly at this final journey in life. Even though some patients may not be awake and alert, by touching them in this way you are acknowledging that they are still there and still part of the world.”

Zale said that, even if a patient can’t speak, she is able to sense small body changes that show the effects of her practice. “It’s a subtle energy shift. Their breathing slows down — you can tell they are relaxing and may be feeling less pain and anxiety. They can tell that you are acknowledging them and are really present with them,” she said.

“This work is a really sacred thing for me. I’m not just holding another person in my hands, I’m holding their soul in many ways.” 

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You’ve Detailed Your Last Wishes, but Doctors May Not See Them

By DANIELA LAMAS, M.D.

[T]his is not how it was supposed to happen.

I was working overnight when my pager sounded, alerting me to an admission to the intensive care unit. I logged on to the computer and clicked on the patient’s chart, scanning the notes that tracked his decline. First there was a cancer diagnosis, too far gone for cure, then surgery, recurrence, surgery, and finally, a discharge home. The elderly man had been found there earlier that evening, pale, feverish and too confused to communicate.

Now he was in the emergency department, his breaths ragged. “There’s no family around. We’re probably going to have to intubate,” the emergency room doctor told me when I called him to learn more about the patient. I sighed, wondering what this man would have wanted, if only he could tell us.

I was surprised when, a few seconds after I hung up the phone, one of the doctors in training tapped me on the shoulder and pointed urgently at the computer screen. There was something important there at the very end of an otherwise unremarkable progress note from the patient’s outpatient oncologist. Just a few weeks before, doctor and patient had talked about how they were at the end of the road, without further therapies to slow the growth of the cancer. Facing a prognosis on the order of months, the elderly man had requested that when things got worse, there would be no breathing tubes or chest compressions. Only comfort and quiet.

But now he was unable to speak for himself. Too busy with X-rays and ultrasounds and medications, the emergency team hadn’t seen the note. I sent a page off to the attending taking care of the patient to alert him to the patient’s wishes, and my resident gathered his papers to run down to the emergency room.

This patient had done everything we could have asked. He’d been brave enough to talk with his doctors about his cancer and acknowledge that time was short. He had designated a health care proxy. But there he was, surrounded by strangers, the intubation he never would have wanted looming and the record of that conversation buried in his electronic record.

Something had gone wrong. And though it would be easy to blame the oncologist for not sending the patient home with a legally binding directive documenting his end-of-life wishes, or the emergency doctors for not searching harder in the chart, it’s not that simple. As it usually is with a surgery performed on the wrong side of the patient’s body or a medication that’s prescribed despite a known allergy, the problem here is not about individuals, but instead about a system that doesn’t sufficiently protect patients from getting care they do not want.

Increasingly, doctors like me are trained to have frank, hard conversations with our patients about prognosis and care goals. Outside the hospital, people with serious illnesses are encouraged to discuss these issues with their friends and family. But what happens after?

It’s tempting to assume that if you tell one doctor what you want at the end of your life, that’s enough — what you want will be clearly documented and retrievable when it is needed, and the record will follow you wherever you go. Yet this critical information is sometimes not documented even when conversations do happen, or scattered through our electronic records, only intermittently accessible (and often only with time-consuming searching), with few standards or best practices to guide us.

For the past year, I delved into the unexpectedly interesting world of advance care planning and electronic health records, interviewing clinicians with on-the-ground experience recording and retrieving these conversations and representatives from the companies behind some of the most widely used electronic records.

As a doctor working in the I.C.U., I knew firsthand the frustrations of searching the electronic record for notes and scanned documents. But I had no idea how common this problem was.

Through my interviews, I heard stories of patients who had been transferred to nursing facilities without their advance directives and returned to the hospital intubated when that was explicitly not what they wanted. Others told me about patients of theirs who’d grown ill on vacation only to end up in a hospital they’d never been to, with an entirely different electronic medical record, where no one was able to access any prior documentation. Others described situations in which last minute “saves” through extreme diligence or chance, such as the one I experienced, had led to a good outcome.

There are few existing regulations here, as the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Service are relatively silent on advance care planning. In contrast to the rules around allergies, which mandate that all patients have an active med allergy list, electronic records simply need to have the capacity to show whether or not a patient has an advance directive, somewhere. They don’t even need to make the directive retrievable.

In the absence of nationwide standards, there’s significant variability among hospitals and among electronic records. Some have worked to make end-of-life documentation more easily accessible. At my hospital, for example, clicking on an “Advance Care Planning” tab will bring you to a record of all advance care planning notes, health care proxy forms, scanned directives and code status orders. This is a start, but it wasn’t enough for that elderly man in the emergency room. Habits are hard to break, and without a clear set of incentives, training and ongoing education, doctors (myself included) continue to record information about end-of-life conversations in progress notes, where they are not readily available, particularly when they are urgently needed.

Recently, a handful of start-ups have stepped in, trying to offer a solution to the fact that different electronic records can’t communicate with each other. There’s software and clever patient apps that work outside the electronic record, promising to build a repository of directives, proxy forms, even conversations. Just imagine, your E.D. doctor is fumbling to find your information in your chart, but you have an advance directive that was safely uploaded onto your smartphone. This most likely could have helped my patient that day — if he had a smartphone and was able to show it to his doctors, or if his hospital had committed to buying the necessary software.

What could really make a meaningful difference, I heard time and time again, is standards for sharing, or “interoperability” across all electronic records that would benefit every patient, everywhere. At least, all related advance care planning documentation should be in one place in the medical record and accessible with one simple click of the mouse. Beyond that, maybe all health systems could require identification of a health care proxy for all patients, so we would know who should make decisions if the patient can’t. Maybe patients should be able to access their health records through a patient-facing interface, send in their own directives, or even update related notes. Ideally, the electronic record isn’t just a clunky online version of a paper chart but actually a tool to help us do our jobs better.

Yet as it is, we’re playing catch-up. Which is how my patient ended up in the hospital that night, with a team of well-meaning doctors readying to do something to him that he never would have wanted, and a resident racing down to the emergency room because he’d happened upon a note.

When the resident arrived outside my patient’s room, he was relieved to see that the elderly man was still breathing on his own. The E.D. attending had held off. The patient’s family was on the way. Up in the I.C.U., we treated him gently with fluids and antibiotics and oxygen. He never did get strong enough to make it back home, but I think he was quiet and comfortable in the end, as he had wanted.

At the time, that felt like success. But looking back, I realize that we were just lucky — and that’s not enough.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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10 Questions to Consider When Preparing for the Death of a Loved One

By John O. McManus

Death represents a significant and vulnerable point in time for both the individual facing it and his or her loved ones. As part of its Educational Focus Series, McManus & Associates, a top-rated estate planning law firm celebrating more than 25 years of success, today identified “10 Questions to Consider When Preparing for the Passing of a Loved One.” During a conference call with clients, the firm’s Founding Principal and AV-rated Attorney John O. McManus offered guidance on how to ensure optimal end-of-life care for oneself and loved ones. To hear his recommendations, go to http://bit.ly/2COi3R1.

“Death is an uncomfortable topic for many people, but it should be accepted as a natural part of life,” commented McManus. “While everyone would prefer to focus on life, a significant amount of stress related to death can be reduced by proper planning.”

10 Questions to Consider When Preparing for the Passing of a Loved One

  1. Know one’s options: What is the difference between hospice and palliative care?

Both hospice and palliative care provide end-of-life care, including symptom management and comfort for an ill patient while he prepares for death. Both also offer end-of-life care in the home or in a facility and have a team of specialists who deliver this care. However, there are a few differences:

2. Dot your i’s and cross your t’s: Are all the necessary legal documents in order?  

While competent, one’s loved one should express her wishes to guide family members in the event she cannot make decisions for herself. This includes directions as to what type of care she wants; whether she would like to donate her organs and when that should be communicated to medical professionals; preferred end-of-life care (hospice or palliative care) and location. This can be included in a health care directive or in a separate letter to the family but should be done with a greater level of formality – such as with the help of an attorney – to communicate the legitimacy of the loved one’s wishes.

  1. Health care directive/proxy: In this document, the loved one will appoint a surrogate decision-maker or proxy to make medical decisions for her once she is no longer considered able to make competent decisions and provide informed consent. Without this in place, family members will not be able to make medical or care decisions for their loved one; they will have to go through the courts to attain permission. This process can be time-consuming and expensive, detracting from the care of the patient.
  2. Living will: This document tells family members and surrogate decision-makers whether the loved one would like to receive additional measures of care. This includes instructions for extraordinary measures such as respirators, resuscitation, antibiotics, and withholding or withdrawing life-sustaining treatment. This is also a good place for the patient to instruct whether she would like her organs donated after her death.
  3. Health Insurance Portability & Accountability Act (HIPAA): This document protects the privacy of the patient’s medical records and other information. This is especially important if the loved one is unable to make competent decisions, allowing family members to get second opinions and to transfer her between facilities.

3. Broach the subject: Has there been a discussion with the loved one to understand what his or her wishes are? 

Ultimately, the loved one should be in control of her death and family members should know what that means for her. When the time comes that she is no longer mentally competent to make her own decisions, her surrogate decision-maker will step in to be the voice of the patient. It is important for the surrogate decision-maker to keep in mind the patient’s wishes. This is by no means an easy conversation but can help bring peace of mind to the loved one knowing what a good death means to her is understood.

4. Nail down the timeline: When does the loved one want end-of-life care to begin? 

Studies have found that there are many people who put off end-of-life care. This is often because the patient is still fighting his illness and does not want to receive end-of-life care until he is done receiving preventative treatment. This can minimize the benefits of end-of-life care, as he has less time to prepare for death. To be eligible for hospice care, patients must be within their last six months of life. If the loved one is not yet done fighting his illness, hospice may not be the right decision. If he wants to continue receiving preventative treatment, palliative care may be the better option. It is important to note that when hospice care starts, the loved one will no longer see his regular doctors, and will only be under the care of the hospice staff. However, if a new treatment becomes available while the loved one is receiving hospice care, he can leave hospice to receive life-prolonging treatment.

5. Research reputation: Has one discovered all that can be discovered about the potential care facilities being considered?   

Not all facilities offer the same benefits. One should look at the reputation of each facility, and ask for references from them, in addition to looking up reviews online. One should also ensure that they provide quality care and do not have a history of promising services that were not delivered, and find answers to questions like, “Do they have a history of withholding pain medication from patients due to fear of addiction? Do they have a history of ethical or staff issues?” Additionally, one should ask when the last time the facility was inspected by the state or federal government, which should reveal if there were any issues. If there were, one should be sure that they were resolved.

6. Find out who is behind the mask: How well does one know the loved one’s care providers?  

Few medical professionals have explicit training in death and dying. Talking to the loved one’s doctor may help form a more personal relationship and make the loved one feel more comfortable. Learning about the communication habits between the doctor and her colleagues is extremely important; one should be assured that all staff coming and going knows what has been done before they arrived and why. Also, as mentioned above, when the goal of end-of-life care is to provide comfort, reports of staff withholding pain medication can be an important concern. Finally, some facilities use volunteer services who interact with patients and their families, and learning what screening and training they have had can bring peace of mind. 

7. Do due diligence: Has one done his or her own research? Have all factors that could influence one’s decision been explored?

Not all facilities are created equal. Hospice and palliative care have facilities across the nation; however, their standards vary. One should ask the facilities being considered for references. If anyone who has been in a similar situation is known, one should ask him or her how he or she was treated by the particular facility’s staff and if they followed through with their promises. Also, one should ask care providers to share what can be done by the patient’s loved ones to help. Most importantly, one should ensure that he or she is well-informed on the ethical issues in this area of care.

8. Learn the ins and outs: Is in-patient or out-patient care best for the loved one and family?

The physical location for end-of-life care is a significant decision for the loved one. It is important that she feels comfortable in her environment during the final days of her life. Unfortunately, this is not always possible to achieve, since some families may not be physically equipped to care for their loved ones at home (out-patient care) and some are not financially able to allow their loved ones to stay in a facility (in-patient care).

9. Prepare Plan B: Does one have a backup plan?  

This may be most important for those who have decided to use out-patient care. Despite what promises are made by the end-of-life care provider, families should always have a backup plan. Recently, stories in the media have drawn attention to negative hospice and palliative care experiences. The reasons have ranged from poor communication to organizations not delivering on their promises. A common complaint is that staff does not treat the needs of patients who are in pain as time-sensitive, and the loved one’s doctors and nurses were unreachable. For situations such as these, it is important to have an alternative.

One option that many have found helpful is to have a comfort kit, which includes two pain relievers that can be administered to the loved one, should he be in pain when help is unable to come in a timely manner. One should ask for a comfort kit from the loved one’s care providers and shown how to properly administer the medication to the loved one.

10. Ask for help: Could the loved one and his or her family benefit from counseling?

Death is a highly stressful process for the person who is dying and her friends and family. It is extremely important for all parties to feel informed about what they are undergoing. The loved one should be able to reach a point of finitude, coming to grips with eventual death – this is a long process that can occur on many levels. On a surface level, this can begin with preparing any necessary legal documents, and on a deeper level, this can include reminiscing, enjoying positive moments, saying goodbyes, passing on sentimental items of significance, and legitimizing her life how she sees fit.  This should not solely be left for the loved one to realize on her own. When faced with a terminal diagnosis and death, people have many different reactions. It is important to offer the loved one guidance during this time. This will allow the loved one to have a death filled with control, dignity, peace, and finitude.

While this process has an end for the loved one, the family members must continue to live their lives. Rituals after death such as religious traditions, a funeral and/or a memorial service can be helpful, serving as a distraction and time to celebrate the loved one. However, at the end of this ritual period, family members will no longer have any distraction from their grief and may need guidance. It is important for those left behind to understand healthy coping techniques and the stages of grief they are experiencing.

“It is important to talk about death with loved ones – there are emotional benefits to reflecting on a life spent together, and expressing gratitude and admiration,” explained McManus. “It is also crucial to ask difficult questions so that the topic receives adequate attention and preparation

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Rethinking Dying, Part 4

“Am I dying?” The honest answer.

[M]atthew O’Reilly is a veteran emergency medical technician on Long Island, New York. In this talk, O’Reilly describes what happens next when a gravely hurt patient asks him: “Am I going to die?”

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Rethinking Dying, Part 3

Let’s talk about dying

[W]e can’t control if we’ll die, but we can “occupy death,” in the words of Peter Saul, an emergency doctor. He asks us to think about the end of our lives — and to question the modern model of slow, intubated death in hospital. Two big questions can help you start this tough conversation.