This Nursing Professor Is On a Quest to Improve End-of-Life Care, Worldwide

Nursing professor Cathy Campbell aims to expand palliative care practices in places around the world where it’s existed only informally.

By Christine Phelan Kueter

[E]ach week, as she sits at the bedside of dying patients, University of Virginia nursing professor Cathy Campbell remembers the bad old days of end-of-life care during her early nursing practice in the mid-1980s.

Staff didn’t know how to treat patients, their bodies addled by pain and disease, and treatment had less to do with pain management than with beating back deadly illnesses, she recalled. Even for patients who were moments from passing away, there was great reluctance to offer relief with drugs like morphine and Demerol, so as not “to hasten death.” But death in hospital intensive care units, with wires and tubes snaking from patients’ every orifice, was painfully common.

“There was always this great tension between compassionate care and the cure, the cure, the cure,” said Campbell, recollecting her early years as a nurse in a Florida Veterans Administration hospital, “and at that point palliative care wasn’t very good, and the things we did to patients weren’t very good for them, either.”

While the memories still smart, Campbell’s relieved when she considers the expanse of modern palliative care, and the growing understanding that “there is such a thing as a good death.”

But drugs and technologies aside, palliative care remains rooted in compassionate presence. That might mean that light chit-chat, passing ice to the bedridden, or quietly holding a griever’s hand. It also might mean answering loved ones’ frank and probing questions – What does death look like? How do you know if he’s in pain? Does she know we’re here at all? – or recommending medication adjustments for pain, based upon observed distress.

Many times, though, Campbell’s just there, palms up, offering herself as a witness and a comfort.

“This is what I want to do, where I want to be,” said Campbell, a nurse for 31 years and a palliative care scholar for 25. “The day of death is one day, but there are a lot of other days to provide support in between.”

But if palliative care has more recently expanded into America’s consciousness, beyond our borders its practice is spotty at best, and absent at worse. That absence is felt most acutely in the world’s poorest, most rural regions where chronic illness and death from diseases like HIV and AIDs, malaria and tuberculosis are common.

In many areas, palliative care is anemic due to too few providers. In South Africa, for instance, the patient-nurse ratio is 417-to-1, a reality that pushes many tasks onto community health workers who provide the majority of rural patients’ care. Among those workers – local individuals, some trained, who do home visits and provide a conduit to nurses in charge of vast geographic territories and literally thousands of patients – palliative care knowledge is even less common.

Most community health workers have basic training in bathing and turning bed-ridden patients; perhaps know how to take vital signs, like blood pressure and pulse; and may, too, know something about vectors of disease transmission for some of the region’s most deadly diseases, including tuberculosis and HIV. But palliative care, Campbell said, is “learned on the fly,” even as it’s an increasingly robust part of their job.

Those gaps in knowledge are due to the fact that palliative care concepts haven’t become fully integrated into overseas’ nursing curricula. It all adds up to a perfect storm, Campbell said, even in this era when the World Health Organization has declared access to palliative care “a human right.”

Given these twin realities, Campbell said, a movement to buttress community health workers’ education, skills and reach is afoot, and Campbell is in the thick of the march. She just received a two-year Fulbright Scholarship to augment the bare-bones understanding of palliative care as it exists in two rural provinces of South Africa and Thailand, and how best to broaden it with the support of community health workers.

Campbell’s years of work as a faculty mentor and researcher at UVA’s Center for Global Health have provided invaluable insight into the many issues and tremendous potential of community health workers in rural communities. This summer, Campbell will mentor a team, in collaboration with colleagues at the University of Venda, of Center for Global Health University Scholars for a fourth year of longitudinal research on community health worker engagement in community care.

With the Fulbright, Campbell and her UVA research assistants will conduct focus groups with 60 rural community health workers across Thailand and South Africa to discuss the cases they see and document how they handle them, in order to determine what types of educational and training programs make the most sense. Their ultimate aim is to expand palliative care practices in places where it’s existed only informally.

Campbell has already observed community health workers’ appetite for training in palliative care in particular – “they’re eager for it,” she reports – and in many cases, the most experienced and seasoned workerss are likely to receive training and education and then return to their peers to train them.

Community health workers, Campbell said, are the linchpin to expanding developing nations’ palliative care reach into the rural communities that need it.

“We can train CHWs to do more, because they’re really the ones doing the work,” Campbell said. “They’re a community treasure.”

Complete Article HERE!

The things dying people care about reveal a lot about how to live

In the end, only one thing matters.

By Corinne Purtill

[A]sk people to imagine what they’d say if they knew they were dying and most would have words of sadness, fear, and regret. But new psychological research bolsters what chaplains, hospice workers, and others who spend a lot of time in the company of those approaching the end of life have long known: the process of dying is a complicated one, with room for moments of profundity and light alongside fear and darkness.

In a series of experiments documented in the journal Psychological Science, researchers compared the blog posts of terminally ill people and the last words of death row inmates to the words of healthy people asked to imagine themselves writing near their death.

The people actually approaching death used more positive terms and fewer negative ones to describe their emotions than those imagining the experience. In the blog posts—all from real people who eventually died from their disease—emotions grew more positive as death approached.

It’s not a perfect study—people with unspeakable regrets or fears may be less inclined to publicly chronicle their final days than those who do not. But there are a few reasons why death may be more terrifying as a distant abstract than an immediate reality.

People tend to overlook or discount the psyche’s ability to adapt to new circumstances when imagining the future, according to research from the Harvard University psychologist Daniel Gilbert. Because we don’t properly account for our own resilience when envisioning future calamities, we tend to think that we’ll feel sadder, for longer, than we actually do.

Even amid the trauma of a terminal diagnosis and the discomforts of the dying process, the mind can adapt to find pleasure in the comforts available. And when we believe we have less time to live, whether due to age, illness, or external threat, we subconsciously adjust our priorities to favor those things closest to home. Research has found that old people, young people with serious diagnoses, and people living in uncertain political climates vastly prefer time with old friends and family over new contacts and experiences. The depth of these connections bring meaning to the final days of life in a way that can be hard for healthy people in an externally-focused, future-oriented mindset to comprehend.

It’s inaccurate to portray the close of life as a universally positive or peaceful experience. “We die the way we have lived,” says Barbara Karnes, a hospice nurse who has written extensively on the dying process. “I think it is human nature to look for love, connection, and meaning. We don’t necessarily have to be dying to do that. Dying gives us the opportunity, the gift of time, to reach out, but many do not take that opportunity.”

Death focuses us on what we care about most. But we don’t have to wait until the end is imminent to live as if each day matters.

“If there is any great difference between the people who know they are dying and the rest of us, it’s this: They know they’re running out of time,” Kerry Egan, a Harvard Divinity School-trained hospital chaplain, writes in her book On Living. “They have more motivation to do the things they want to do, and to become the person they want to become…. There’s nothing stopping you from acting with the same urgency the dying feel.”

Complete Article HERE!

30 Resources to Help Caregivers

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Senior caregiving is time consuming, resource intensive, and something 34.2 million people in the United States are trying to balance with everything else going on in their lives. Being the primary caregiver for an aging loved one is hard work, and a lot of caregivers are struggling with the burden without knowing where to turn for help.

Luckily, you do have options. We’ve compiled a list of 30 resources for caregivers that can help ease your burden and provide helpful information on how to handle caregiving more effectively.

Organizations that Help Caregivers

Several organizations are devoted to providing resources, aid, and advocating for seniors and caregivers.

  1. Administration on Aging

The Administration on Aging is a government organization specifically devoted to providing programs and services to help aging seniors continue living independently. While the organization is primarily focused on the well being of seniors, it includes an Office of Supporter and Caregiver Services that helps provide funding to families for resources to help with caregiving.

  1. Family Caregiver Alliance

The Family Caregiver Alliance is a nonprofit organization that provides services and education programs, as well as doing advocacy work to help encourage government policy that’s helpful to caregivers.

  1. Caregiver Action Network

The Caregiver Action Network provides educational resources for caregivers and a forum to connect family caregivers with others dealing with similar issues.

  1. Rosalynn Carter Institute for Caregiving

The Rosalynn Carter Institute for Caregiving provides support programs and training resources for caregivers, as well as advocacy to encourage greater institutional help for caregivers.

  1. National Respite Network

Sometimes caregivers just need a break. The National Respite Network helps caregivers find respite services that temporarily take over some of the caregiving tasks so family caregivers can take a well-needed break.

6. Become A Caregiver

If you are looking to become a caregiver anywhere in the United States, look no further than caregivers.com.  They help get families and caregivers in touch quickly and easily and will ensure the family gets the best caregiver they can while matching the caregiver’s skill set to the right family.

Resources to Find Caregiving Support

A lot of caregivers find they need support in various forms, but don’t know where to start looking. These resources can help with some of the support you need.

  1. Benefits Checkup

Navigating the system of benefits available to seniors is tough, and many seniors leave potential aid or money on the table because they don’t know it’s out there for them. The Benefits Checkup site makes it easier to quickly see what benefits are available in your area that you or your loved one are likely to qualify for.

  1. Family Care Navigator

The support resources available to caregivers vary based on your geographic location. The Family Care Navigator helps you hone in on what programs and organizations are specifically available to you in your state.

  1. National Volunteer Caregiving Network

The National Volunteer Caregiving Network helps connect volunteers that want to help others in their communities with the seniors or people with disabilities that need that help. Volunteers help with things like transportation, errands, and home repairs.

  1. Lotsa Helping Hands

Lotsa Helping Hands is another website that helps connect volunteers with caregivers in their area that need some extra help. Caregivers can put the help they need on the website’s calendar and available volunteers step in to provide help with tasks like meal delivery or rides to appointments. 

  1. Eldercare Locator

The Eldercare Locator is a resource provided by the Administration on Aging to help seniors and caregivers find trusted professionals to help with the various services seniors commonly need, like home modifications and legal assistance.

  1. Well Spouse Association

Many senior caregivers are spouses taking care of their partner. The Well Spouse Association helps senior caregivers in this position tap into a larger community of other caregivers taking care of a spouse.

  1. Find Support Groups

Most communities have a number of support groups that caregivers can attend to find others struggling with similar challenges. Often, these support groups are specific to the particular issue your loved one is dealing with, such as cancer or Alzheimer’s support groups. These groups can be an invaluable resource for finding other people who understand what you’re going through and having a healthy outlet for your feelings.

Senior Care Options to Lighten the Load

Often what caregivers need most is somebody else to take on some of the work they’re trying to manage. These resources can help with that.

  1. Senior Day Care

Adult day care lets you drop off your senior loved one for the day while you work or run errands and trust that they’ll be in the care of trained staff. Senior day care also gives seniors a chance to socialize and stay busy in a new environment for the day, which many seniors start to need more as they age.

  1. In-home Care

In-home care professionals come to your home for a set number of hours to help out with the care your loved one needs. You can hire in-home care workers to provide basic around-the-house help, or home health care workers to provide health care to your loved one.

  1. Assisted Living

While many families hesitate to take the step of moving a senior loved one to assisted living, sometimes it really is the best choice for everyone. Assisted living facilities have staff available all hours of day to help with the ADLs seniors often need assistance with.

  1. Respite Care

If you don’t want to take a step that feels as permanent as assisted living, but you know you need a break, respite care can take the caregiving duties off your hands for a temporary period.

  1. Meals on Wheels

A big part of taking care of someone is making sure that they get enough meals each day to stay healthy. For overwhelmed caregivers, that’s not a small task. Meals on Wheels can help fill in with that part of your job in order to take one more thing off your plate.

  1. Independent Transportation Network

Once your loved one can no longer safely drive, getting them out to appointments and social events becomes another difficulty to manage. ITN helps seniors access affordable transportation options that provide the level of help seniors often need.

Educational Resources to Learn More About Caregiving Issues

People and organizations that can help are undeniably valuable, but sometimes getting the right knowledge at the right time is just as important.

  1. LongTermCare.gov

LongTermCare.gov is a government website full of educational resources to help people plan for long-term care and understand the options and benefits available to them.

  1. Guide to Veteran’s Long-Term Care

Veterans have even more potential benefits to tap into than most other seniors. If your loved one is a veteran or the spouse of one, this website can help you understand the benefits available to them.

  1. National Institute on Aging’s Alzheimer’s Caregiving Resources

A growing number of people provide care for Alzheimer’s patients, who require a distinct set of skills and knowledge to properly care for. The NIH provides educational materials to help caregivers learn what to do and expect.

  1. Alzheimer’s Association Caregiver Center 

The Alzheimer’s Association is one of the leading authorities on the disease. Their website provides a wealth of information on caring for Alzheimer’s patients based on up-to-date research on the subject.

  1. American Heart Association’s Resources for Caregivers

Heart disease is another common illness seniors face. The American Heart Association provides some educational tips for caregivers helping a loved one with heart disease.

  1. Cancer Caregivers Resources

The American Cancer Society likewise provides resources to loved ones of cancer patients to help provide the main information they need to take care of someone suffering from cancer.

  1. National Parkinson Foundation Caregiver’s Resources

The National Parkinson Foundation provides a number of resources to caregivers of seniors who have Parkinson’s. They also offer a helpline for caregivers that have questions.

  1. Caregiver’s Home Companion

The Caregiver’s Home Companion is a website that includes forums to connect caregivers to one another, and resources that cover many different aspects of caregiving, from the spiritual to the practical.

  1.  Next Step in Care

Next Step in Care provides guides for caregivers that help them figure out how to work with health care providers to figure out the next step for their loved one when facing complicated decisions and transition periods.

  1. AARP’s Caregiver Resources

In addition to the many resources they provide for seniors, AARP also provides planning guides and other educational resources for the caregivers that help care for seniors.

  1. Video Caregiving

For those that prefer to learn by video rather than reading, Video Caregiving provides a number of films to help caregivers learn the skills they need.

  1. mmLearn

mmLearn provides both videos and blog posts that cover an array of topics helpful to senior caregivers.

Senior caregiving is often difficult on a number of different levels, but any little bit of help you can get will make your caregiving work more sustainable and effective. Figure out which resources to help caregivers best fit your needs and take advantage of them. You’ll be a better caregiver if you’re less overwhelmed and getting the help you need.

Complete Article HERE!

Dying at home: What I learned from my husband’s death

Dr. Donald Low, centre, confers in the lab at the Ministry of Health and Long-Term Care about the results of the Legionella outbreak at Seven Oaks Home for the Aged in 2005.

By

[T]he night my husband died, I slept beside his corpse in our bed. All night. This wasn’t exactly by choice: the funeral home did not retrieve bodies after 8 p.m., and there was no other bed available for me to sleep in, as all our children were home to help care for their father.

I tell this story whenever I discuss the realities of dying at home. Even as a physician assistant, I did not appreciate the challenges — or the immense rewards — of caring for my husband at home until his death.

According to a 2014 Harris/Decima survey, of those Canadians who express a preference for where they want to die, 75 per cent say they want to die at home, surrounded by loved ones. Interestingly, another Canadian study found that those loved ones aren’t quite as keen on the experience: half of the patients who said they wanted to die at home had family members who hoped the death would take place in an institution, like a palliative care unit. No matter: The majority (about 65 per cent) die in a hospital, which isn’t anybody’s first choice.

The palliative care and hospice community often use this data to advocate for more government funding of community supports, such as personal support workers, to help people die at home. And they’re right that home care and palliative care access is too uneven across Canada and in urgent need of more funding.

But what we don’t understand is how many of these hospitalizations at the end of life could be diverted with more nursing, more personal support workers, more respite for family caregivers. I believe that without better education around what’s involved in dying at home, extra resources won’t be enough.

Dying is messy. It shouldn’t have to be painful anymore, though in some cases, only deep sedation can relieve the worst pain. But pain aside, there is no getting around the progressive weakness, the loss of appetite, the fluctuating level of consciousness, the need for diapers or a catheter, and eventually, the shallow, laboured breathing. None of this has to be distressing for the patient, who can, if needed, be heavily drugged or even sedated. But it can be extremely distressing for family members to witness, and it can go on for days and, in some cases, weeks.

When I worked as a physician assistant in the emergency department, I saw many patients brought in by ambulance in those last stages of their disease. When I spoke to the family members, it was often clear they were overwhelmed by very predictable symptoms. But no one had laid it all out for them before. They weren’t looking for miracles — they accepted that death was inevitable — but they felt unprepared and untrained for the burden of watching their loved one struggle to breathe, to communicate, to just let go. Sometimes a spouse confessed that as the husband or wife’s death neared, they worried they’d always associate the home with the death. And so, they dialed 911.

How can we better support those family caregivers so that they don’t end up in the emergency department? Prepare them. Acknowledge the messiness of death. And obviously, provide palliative care resources.

In our house, I had a frank discussion with all the kids and even our cleaning lady: no matter how bad Don looked, no one was ever to call 911. I knew that if he was taken to hospital, he’d never come home again, and he’d die there. Our palliative care team had a binder that stayed on the kitchen counter, with Don’s Do Not Resuscitate order at the front. We had a nurse we could call if his symptoms weren’t being managed well. Don had opted for terminal sedation at the end: an induced coma, without food or fluids. The palliative care physician visited every few days to make sure the drugs were working, and to give us his best guess as to how much longer Don could go on like that.

I often see frail, elderly spouses who try to provide this care for their dying loved ones at home, and it wasn’t difficult to understand why they struggled. There’s no question that we were luckier than most families: I was relatively young, and we had the resources for me to stay at home and care for Don from the night they diagnosed his brain tumour until his death seven months later. Our children were incredibly strong and present, and we took turns doing even the most personal and intimate tasks for him.

Don had desperately wanted an assisted death, an option unavailable to him at the time. But if he had to die “naturally,” he told us, he’d prefer not to have strangers assisting him. In the end — only after Don was sedated, and with no small amount of guilt, we accepted help from those “strangers” to bathe him and turn him so he wouldn’t get bed sores.

There was so little comfort we could take in the fact of Don’s too-early terminal illness. But knowing that we helped him fulfil at least one of his wishes for his death — that he die at home — was comforting to us. And I thoroughly recommend it to other families if they can manage.

After Don died in my arms, all the kids came up to our bedroom and we surrounded him, breaking out his favourite scotch and sharing stories and memories. The palliative care doctor on call came to pronounce him dead and then I called the funeral home. And learned he’d be spending one more night beside me.

I’ll admit, it was weird. But as I pulled up the covers, I found they were mostly over on his side of the bed, and I smiled and looked over at his sweet face one last time. “Really Don? Hogging the covers, even in death?” And I slept soundly all night.

Complete Article HERE!

Dying is happier than you think

[F]ear of death is a fundamental part of the human experience–we dread the possibility of pain and suffering and we worry that we’ll face the end alone. Although thinking about dying can cause considerable angst, new research suggests that the actual emotional experiences of the dying are both more positive and less negative than people expect.

The findings are published in Psychological Science, a journal of the Association for Psychological Science.

“When we imagine our emotions as we approach death, we think mostly of sadness and terror,” says psychological scientist Kurt Gray of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. “But it turns out, dying is less sad and terrifying–and happier–than you think.”

The research, which examined the writings of terminally ill patients and inmates on death row, suggests that we focus disproportionately on the negative emotions caused by dying, without considering the broader context of everyday life.

“Humans are incredibly adaptive – both physically and emotionally–and we go about our daily lives whether we’re dying or not,” Gray explains. “In our imagination, dying is lonely and meaningless, but the final blog posts of terminally ill patients and the last words of death row inmates are filled with love, social connection, and meaning.”

The positive emotions that come with this kind of meaning-making were exquisitely displayed in a recent Modern Love column, written by beloved children’s author Amy Krouse Rosenthal. Rosenthal, who died of ovarian cancer 10 days after her column was published in The New York Times, wrote with profound love and humor about finding someone to marry her husband after she died.

“The column was so touching because it was so positive, so filled with love and hope,” says Gray. “While such positivity seems strange in someone so near death, our work shows that it is actually fairly typical.”

Gray, his graduate student Amelia Goranson, and their co-authors Ryan Ritter, Adam Waytz, and Michael Norton started thinking about the emotional experience of dying when they came across the last words of death-row inmates in Texas, collected by the state’s Department of Justice. They were surprised by how upbeat the statements were, and wondered whether our feelings about death and dying might be clouded by our tendency to zero in on negative experiences.

In their first study, Gray and colleagues analyzed the emotional content of blog posts from terminally ill patients who were dying of either cancer or amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS). To be included in the study, the blogs had to have at least 10 posts over at least 3 months and the author had to have died in the course of writing the blog. For comparison, the researchers asked a group of online participants to imagine that they had been diagnosed with terminal cancer and to write a blog post, keeping in mind that they had only a few months to live.

Using a computer-based algorithm, trained research assistant coders, and online participant coders, the researchers analyzed the actual and imagined blog posts for words that described negative and positive emotions, such as “fear,” “terror,” “anxiety,” “happiness,” and “love.”

The results revealed that blog posts from individuals who were terminally ill included considerably more positive emotion words and fewer negative emotion words than did those written by participants who simply imagined they were dying.

Looking at the patients’ blog posts over time, the researchers also found that their use of positive emotion words actually increased as they neared death, while their use of negative emotion words did not. These patterns held even after Gray and colleagues took the overall word count and number of blog posts into account, suggesting that the increase in positive emotion words was not simply due to the effects of writing over time.

In a second study, the researchers conducted similar analyses comparing the last words of inmates on death row with the poetry of death-row inmates and the imagined last words of another group of online participants.

Again, they found that the words of those who were actually close to death were less negative and more positive in emotional tone than the words of those who were not close to death.

Both the terminally ill patients and the inmates facing execution seemed to focus on things that help us make meaning of life, including religion and family, suggesting that such things may help to quell anxiety about death as it approaches.

Gray and his co-authors acknowledge that the findings may not apply to all people who are approaching death – it’s unclear whether individuals facing a great deal of uncertainty or those who die of old age express similarly positive emotions near the end of life.

Ultimately, the findings suggest that our expectations may not match the reality of dying, which has important implications for how we treat people who are dying.

“Currently, the medical system is geared toward avoiding death–an avoidance that is often motivated by views of death as terrible and tragic,” the researchers write in their paper. “This focus is understandable given cultural narratives of death’s negativity, but our results suggest that death is more positive than people expect: Meeting the grim reaper may not be as grim as it seems.”

Complete Article HERE!

How GPs can handle conversations about end-of-life care

Talking to patients about end-of-life care is not easy even for experienced health professionals, says Dr Pete Nightingale, but following simple guidelines can make the process easier.

By Dr Pete Nightingale

[A]s a GP, you are likely to have had many patients in your care with a life-limiting condition, or who are approaching the end of their life. Speaking honestly about death with someone who will soon face it themselves can be daunting, but can also be extremely rewarding.

A new report by Macmillan Cancer Support, No Regrets, explores the taboo around death, and included the worrying revelation that while 76% of people with cancer have thought about their own death, just 8% of these have shared their feelings with a healthcare professional.

This is concerning for a few reasons. I’d hate to think that any of my patients could be suffering in silence, feeling they cannot share their concerns with me.

GPs and their teams have the potential to play a significant role in helping people work through an Advance Care Plan. Macmillan has found that when healthcare professionals have a record of where someone would like to die, they are nearly twice as likely to die in the place of their choosing.

But talking isn’t always easy, so here are some tips:

Starting the conversation

Some people will make it clear that they are ready to start talking about it, but some may be waiting for a professional to bring it up. You could try a gentle prompt, such as, ‘many people at times like this want to discuss the future’.

Listen to the patient rather than talking yourself

People with an incurable diagnosis may value a sense of control so follow their agenda as much as possible in conversations. Some people, when they are nervous, try to cover this up by talking, but all you need to do is show you are listening. Reflecting what  the patient says back to them can be a reassuring way of letting the patient know you are listening.

Think about including a family member in the conversation

Ask if they want someone close to them to be present. It can provide support for the patient and can also help ease communication within families. Some families shy away from discussing Advance Care Planning, so emphasise the importance of letting the patient talk about the future, if that’s what they want.

Focus on personal preferences

Support the patient in talking about what they would like to happen and what a ‘good’ death means to them. This can include anything from pain relief, location, whether they want their family members present, religious or spiritual needs, or more. Be prepared for the conversation to be more wide-ranging than their clinical needs.

Don’t rush

As GPs, we have an increasingly hectic working life. But remember, there is no time-scale for completing an Advance Care Plan. You can carry the conversation into other appointments, or ask other primary care staff to help.  Help could come from members of  the nursing team or trained care administrators and in some areas trained volunteers are involved.

Ask open questions, listen, then record and share (with permission)

If the patient allows it, let their wishes be known to family, key professionals and out-of-hours services, ideally electronically so they’re accessible.

Be honest

It may be tempting to offer false reassurance to comfort the patient. This can be misleading and prevent the person from coming to terms with what is happening. Phrases like ‘don’t worry’ may seem comforting, but they also imply that you are unwilling to answer difficult questions.

It’s ok not to have the answers

You may feel anxious that you won’t be able to answer all their questions, but you don’t have to have all the answers. Be honest, and say ‘I actually don’t know, but let me find out for you’.

Take opportunities when they arise

If you have the chance to complete an Advance Care Plan with someone, or even just start the conversation, take it! Even if they seem well, remember that there may not be more opportunities to have this chat with them, and people can deteriorate quickly. It’s better to have the conversation sooner rather than later.

Complete Article HERE!

Is it Possible to Die of a Broken Heart?

After 55 years of being by his side every day, being apart was more than she could handle when he became ill.

by

[S]omehow she knew it would be the last time she saw him. They had lived together in their house for 37 years until it became necessary to move to an Assisted Living Facility. Not their choice at all, but they could no longer maintain their home, their finances, their nutritional needs and more.

They met in their mid-twenties on a blind date at the beach. They sat on a blanket smoking cigarettes; she, shy and unsure of herself, was immediately intrigued and attracted to the young man a year and a half her junior. She must have had an open heart; he had just had all his teeth pulled. She didn’t care; she saw a kind and gentle soul. Two months later, he had a new set of teeth and a bride, marrying in his parent’s backyard.Within five years they had two children, a boy, and a girl, just like she wanted. She loved being a mom and a wife. They moved as a family across the country twice, settling in Central Florida and buying a home after many years of renting.

◊♦◊

My parents rarely fought. They bickered and disagreed, but I don’t remember any ugly scenes. I just remember love. Whenever they did get on each other’s nerves, it didn’t last long. Especially if  I put their favorite song, The Nearness of You, on the record player. It was impossible for them not to stop fussing and begin to laugh and hug and kiss each other when they heard it.

They loved each other’s company. It was rare they were apart if they weren’t working. They just loved to be together. A lot of husbands don’t enjoy going to the grocery store with their wives. Dad always did. Probably to keep her from spending too much, but regardless, they did it together. I have many memories of them walking through grocery stores and malls holding hands. My parents didn’t have any issues with public displays of affection.

I have fond memories of them bowling and square dancing together too. They got up together every morning, and went to bed together at the same time every night, after the evening news. When they both retired, they drove around the country, stopping to visit friends and family. Just the two of them. Inseparable.

As with many people, aging was not kind to my mom and dad. He went through a bout of Leukemia and shingles. She – a heart attack, congestive heart failure, kidney issues and breathing trouble. Her heart surgery went fine, but she contracted MRSA in the hospital and required more intensive surgery that she nearly didn’t survive.

But she pulled through. She was a fighter and she needed my father. And he needed her too. He sat by her side every day in ICU, then at the long-term hospitals and rehab facilities where she was moved for recovery.

Finally, she came home and they enjoyed a few quieter years together with me checking on them daily.

But there soon came a time when they needed more. Much more.

Dad was showing signs of Dementia. Medicine and meals were missed. Food was rotting in their fridge. Bills weren’t getting paid. Little by little, their well-being was eroding and I was struggling to help them maintain.

It took a crisis of their phones being shut off and nearly their electricity too, to really understand their situation, and while it was one of the toughest decisions I ever made, I moved them to an ALF and sold their home.

For a while, Dad did well. Even though he had early dementia, he still was able to drive and he became involved in activities. Mom was less happy, but she was safe, her medications were managed for her and I was finally able to sleep.

And for a couple years, life was status quo. Until it wasn’t.

Little by little, Dad’s mind began to slip and then continued to slip away. It started with him sleeping more than usual which I attributed to depression; sleeping is a great escape when you feel you are “having your life taken away from you.”

And the slide continued. His confusion increased as his cognitive mind decreased. One of the hardest days was having to take his car away. His self-care began to erode. There were days he didn’t get dressed or shave. He wasn’t eating very much. He slept much more of each day than he was awake.

Mom was frightened. She felt isolated and alone. I could tell she was grieving as she watched the man she loved so deeply slowly disappear. I felt the grief as well. The meds the neurologist prescribed we had hoped would slow down what was happening to his mind. didn’t seem to be slowing down anything at all.

Then the phone calls from the ALF staff began.

“We are having a problem with your father. He is wandering into other resident’s rooms.”

We all knew it wasn’t intentional. He just had no idea where his apartment was, after five years of living there. And with each passing day, it became obvious he needed more help with activities of daily living as he could no longer care for himself and Mom was unable to care for him.

This was where the heartbreak began. Dad had always provided for the family and Mom and always been, well, Mom, the nurturing rock as many mothers are. When she became sick, he took over, administering her medications including insulin four times a day. Now neither of them could help each other and he was becoming a shell of the man he used to be.

A painful decision was made to move him to the Alzheimer’s unit. My parents had never been separated before. Mom moved to a smaller apartment a short time after. She became increasingly depressed as his mind continued to drift.

I spent hours trying to reach him. Singing to him. I have read many studies that music is the last thread some Alzheimer’s patients hang onto and there were times he would nod and hum along.

Mom hated going to see him in the Alzheimer’s unit. It bothered her immensely. My stress increased as well trying to help both of them. She called me often, leaving voice mails if I wasn’t available, always asking about my dad. How was he? She was so worried about him. Her grief was palpable.

About six weeks after his move to the unit, Mom asked to go see him. Her color was not good. We entered the unit and found Dad sitting outside his room in his chair – the one I brought down so he would have something familiar. He seemed lost in his own world.

I paused as I heard the music on the sound system. The Nearness of  You was playing. What were the odds that their song was filling the room. Divine intervention perhaps?

“Dad,” I whispered in his ear. “Listen. Do you hear the music? It’s your song. And look, it’s your bride.”

He nodded slightly and looked at Mom. I began to sing in his ear the words and he continued to nod. I glanced at Mom; tears were running down her cheeks. Somehow I helped him stand up, and she did too and they gave each other a hug. I asked him if there was anything he wanted to say to her and he croaked out “I love you,” in a raspy voice, then sat down and closed his eyes.

Mom was shaking by now and asked me to take her back to the main area, out of the Alzheimer’s unit. It was just too painful for her.

The next day, the call from the ALF was not about him, but her. She was being rushed to the hospital: her broken heart had stopped beating.

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