Gifts of Grace from Dave

Gifts of Grace from Dave

By Melinda Bailey Woody, RN CRNH

Admission Nurse, Community Hospice

Fort Worth, TX

I have daily recommended hospice to strangers. I believe in what I recommend but to encourage a friend of 25 years to try this approach when facing his death was much harder. The stakes were much higher!

Today is Good Friday. I've often been in church at noon on this day but three years ago on Good Friday I was waiting for an ambulance to bring my friend, Dave, home for the last time.

In the hospital room he looked so pale and ash-colored next to the crisp, white sheets. He had a flat affect when he was not growling angrily because of pain. Hospital staff and friends of the family stayed away and Dave withdrew more. His wife said he was depressed, almost suicidal at this stage of his illness. Dave was now paralyzed and incontinent from compression of his spine by tumors. He avoided eye contact, even with her. No one could reach him.

How things changed when Dave came home. The ambulance technicians brought him into his room, which was aglow with bright sunshine. The bed was made up in beautiful lavender and blue-plaid bedding. Fresh air gave a gentle breeze throughout the room. Fragrant candles, plants and soft music enriched the room, welcoming home Dave. His cat, Tunsis, who was named after The Saturday Night Live fake driving cat, joined him in the hospital bed right away.

This was Dave's world. His "Duke" poster was there as a welcome sight, reminding him of college days when fraternity brothers nicknamed the 6'4" West Texan after John Wayne. Marine Corps mementos, too, brought back memories of bygone days as a Marine Officer in Viet Nam. And of course, the bust of Elvis Presley, complete with snarly lip and cheap Hawaiian lei, completed Dave's world.

Dave's humor was legendary. He was known to wear a gorilla suit or cow costume to TCU games. He had an intelligent dry wit, which he shared with his friend, my first husband, as fellow law school pals and longtime buddies. Unfortunately the two had also shared the cruel fate of cancer together. They were both taken by the disease during their prime years.

Dave's response to being home was incredible. Almost immediately he began "to connect," look people in the eye, and even crack jokes. He was the "Dave" everyone knew and loved again. This was a result of better pain control and mindful medication regime. His funny videos, favorite foods and cold Coca-Cola in old-time eight-ounce bottles, all seemed to bring him more ease.

The "hospice talk" we had about what was ahead helped Dave to redefine hopes. With few words spoken, Dave was able to reach an honesty with his wife, children and friends. With his "cards on the table" everybody felt less stress. I was able to watch him bloom even as he was facing this dreaded disease.

I feel that with the help of the hospice staff, Dave's wife, Marsha, a beautiful and incredibly strong woman, learned to like herself more. During this time of her life she also was able to recognize her capabilities. With the hospice team to teach, answer questions, give baths to Dave, recommend medications, and give her a much deserved break, Marsha was empowered to keep him at home and do this "their way."

My Easter gift that year was Dave's grace. My marriage to his buddy, Mike, was deeply strained and had fallen apart at the last. I asked Dave if he remembered saying he forgave me for my failing at the marriage with Mike. Dave emphatically corrected me by reminding me that instead of offering forgiveness, his words had been, "No Forgiveness Necessary." What a grace filled reminder! I finally understood what he was saying to me. No forgiveness was necessary.

Dave then offered a second gift of grace to me. He shared an incident between him and Marsha that had occurred a few months after Mike's death. He relayed that Marsha had told him to quit moping around, to get a friend, and to go somewhere. He said that he had shouted back, "I had a friend and he died!" This man of few words had never shared this with me before, but now it was very important. We realized we had a strong bond with one another. We both had loved the same person and had lost that person.

The next few weeks went all too quickly. As a friend, I stepped aside and didn't involve myself professionally. Before our eyes, he changed and soon was near death. Quietly and peacefully Dave died in his sleep.

Arriving at the huge crowded church parking lot for the funeral, I saw a familiar silhouette come toward me. It was my former sister-in-law. We had once been very close friends, but a rift had developed due to our marital problems. We walked in together and emotionally held one another up during the services and lingered to talk afterwards. We felt the power of two special angels with us.

Published in "Dove Prints"�The Bereavement Publication of Community Hospice in July 2000

HOME

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws