Posted by Irene Smith on October 28, 2008 at 6:50pm
This week during a nursing home clinical practice, a student was faced with a day of complete helplessness.The first client was in severe pain when we went into the room, and in pain when we left the room.The second client was very open for touch for the first 10 minutes and then transitioned into a second personality; becoming paranoid, confused, and agitated at everything around her. The client was left agitated and confused.In both situations; however, the clients experienced moments of pleasure and obvious intimate contact.In the first client’s room the client was completely engaged for 45 minutes, holding the student’s hand periodically, and gazing into her eyes. The client animated pain quietly through facial expression, and expressed verbal gratitude for the company and the touch.What greater gift can we take to the bedside than the gift of sharing the pain and witnessing the suffering of another human being.However, as a witness for a client who is experiencing pain and/or whose disease is progressing, I am confronted with the loss of control by my client and myself. There is no longer a separation in the helplessness. Living in a culture that teaches us to value ourselves according to what we can fix, change or correct, turns feelings of helplessness into embarrassment, low self-esteem, shame, and/or guilt.The first few years of this work when I felt unable to help a client, it was hard for me to sleep. I was depressed and anxious. The sense of failure and guilt struck deep. These were difficult feelings to have. They were overwhelming.Through allowing my feelings to be present, and through sharing them with people involved in the same work, I realize that the feeling of overwhelm comes from my fear of failure — my fear of being helpless.I don’t know if I’ll ever lose this fear, but knowing how it is triggered, and the rhythm in which it rises in me, allows me to integrate it into my consciousness. The fear of helplessness has become familiar to me. I don’t have to be overwhelmed by it.This process of integration expands my heart and deepens my awareness of compassion. Having compassion for myself, I may now receive my client more fully.I look forward to your sharing and questions.Blessings,Irene Smithwww.everflowing.org1.
Read more…
Posted by Irene Smith on September 28, 2008 at 7:30pm
Choosing to visit Celine after visiting hours seemed perfect; however I knew I should call and alert nursing staff. I explained to James, Celine’s nurse, that I was on my way to the hospital to give Celine a massage. James with extraordinary compassion in his voice told me Celine had just died. I took a breath. The silence encouraged me to ask if I could come anyway. James said, yes.Lavender scented lotion was Celine’s favorite, so I packed it in my bag and called a taxi.Celine had been my neighbor for 25 years and allowing others in her private space was not Celine’s way. Being called for touch support in the final months of her life was quite an honor.Eight weeks later Celine became bedridden and no longer capable of caring for herself. Being there when her power of attorney called and told her that I had to call 911 was one of the hardest moments I’ve ever experienced with a client.As I packed Celines’s bag and assisted her in getting ready for the ambulance we both knew she would never see her home of 45 years again.When the taxi arrived at the hospital, I went to the 4th floor. James appeared with extended arms. We hugged. “What a beautiful idea” he said.There was a feeling of deep peace in Celine’s room as she lay like an African queen on a royal voyage. James removed the iv’s from her arms, the cooling blanket at her feet, and left us.I looked around the room. There were several stones and some pieces of wood. Wood and rocks had always comforted Celine with the spirit of the forest.I spoke to Celine of the peace I felt in the room and of the beauty I witnessed in her open unfurled face. I told her I forgave myself for calling 911, and after sensing the peace around her in that moment; I knew she forgave me as well.The scent of lavender filled the air as I slowly and gently anointed her body for the last time. Tears washed away my guilt and my heart received the honesty and fullness of our experience. It seemed guided as I placed the pieces of driftwood on Celine’s heart, solar plexus, and belly and laid the perfect lightweight sand colored stone on her forehead.Soft tones began to come through my throat and a chant was revealed. “You are the texture of the wood. You are the voice of the rock people. You are the movement of the breeze blowing through your window. You are harmony converging.” I repeated this several times.Two nurses entered. Each stayed for a while sharing tears and expressing gratitude for the ceremony.I requested that the stones and pieces of wood remain with Celine as she was transported from the 4th floor. James agreed.As I waited for my taxi, I stood deeply humbled by the blessings in my life and by my chosen work.Putting this experience into words has been yet another blessing. Thank you. I look forward to your comments.Irene Smithwww.everflowing.org1.
Read more…
Posted by Irene Smith on August 26, 2008 at 8:30am
This August 24th marked the 4th anniversary of the passing of my dear friend and teacher the late pioneering thanatologist Elisabeth Kubler-Ross MD.We met in 1979 in Escondido California when I attended my first Life Death Transition workshop.Several workshops later Elisabeth wrote a reference letter in my behalf and told me to take it to hospice. So began my work with the dying ,and a 25 year friendship with a dear colleague.Elisabeth was a person of passionate spirit.She taught me to open my heart to the spiritual nature of life.Sunday August 22,2004 I came out of my shower, went into my bedroom ,layed on top of the bed to relax and looked out to the tops of the trees from my 3rd floor attic apartment.I live in the middle of San Francisco in a nice but very crowed neighborhood. I walk past the homeless to do my daily errands and the underground trains come out of the tunnel right across the street . My mornings of looking out to the trees are a gift that I treasure.As I gazed towards the trees I saw a pair of wings rising from the stairs below my deck. I raised my head in curious awe when an eagle appeared, perched on the railing, and looked into my room." Oh my God! "I exclaimed." what is this?" It was a small golden eagle or hawk. Neither would have been flying around my neighborhood ,and this did not fly over. It came up to intentionally perch on the railing of my 3rd story deck.I sat in utter amazement and wondered what it meant. After about two minutes it flew away. I immediately got my animal spirits book and looked up hawk. A Native American omen of healing, rebirth, and a sign that I should be alert to what is coming ahead. The eagle is the messenger to God who takes our prayers to Heaven. I knew I was being given a very important message but I wasn't clear what it was.I emailed a good friend in Arizona and related the event.Tuesday morning August 24th I received an email telling me of the death of my dear friend Elisabeth' Kubler Ross , I took a shower and went into my room to lay on top of the bed and look out to the trees. As I looked out I came to clarity:Elisabeth's totem animal was the golden eagle. The golden eagle had been sent to me to tell me good bye from Elisabeth. I wept in deepest gratitude for this gift, and for the wisdom to recognize it.May Elisabeth's spirit continue to soar. May her spirit continue to remind us to live now, to live fully and to speak our truth.I look forward to your stories of vision and spirit.Many Blessings Irene smithwww.everflowing.org
Read more…
It seemed as usual, walking down the long corridor in the inpatient hospice unit on Sunday.We were witnessing twenty-two beds with curtains in between to allow visual privacy to residents in various stages of their dying process. Curtains were drawn to allow complete privacy for some; others, with curtains open, were watching TV or listening to music with headsets, and some were lying across their beds in obvious discomfort. There were residents being vocal with their personal needs, and residents needing their quiet space.After 15 years of coming to this unit, although I never know what will appear, it all seemed to be somewhat familiar.I knew however, that for the two Everflowing interns with me, it was not familiar. I was giving an orientation for our clinical practice and this was our first walk through the unit. I sensed the impact of this long corridor.We were passing through the men’s area when at the other end of the unit, in the women’s area, there was a slight Asian woman coming our way with a nursing assistant. We kept walking. She kept walking towards us. As the woman approached I noticed her expression change from curiosity to acceptance.Then, when we were only a couple of feet away from each other, the woman stretched out her arms to me. Her face was open and inviting. I stopped walking. Our eyes met in soft recognition of our humanness, and I responded with outstretched arms as well.With obvious respect, she took one of my arms in her hands, stroked down the arm slowly, and looking into my eyes, took my hand and gently stroked the side of her face. ”Thank you,” I said. “Thank you,” she replied.Reaching out, she then silently offered to hold one of the intern’s hands for a moment, and thank you’s were expressed.Approaching the second intern, the woman stood on her tiptoes and stroked the interns shoulder and across his chest. She was beaming with care and tenderness.After all thank you’s were expressed this angel of the hospice continued her journey to the kitchen.We were left standing in the center of this corridor softened with gratitude. Our orientation had been transformed. Our hearts were full and our spirits light.A simple caring gesture of touch; a glance into the eyes of an intimate contact with no attachment; no planned intention to fix, change, heal or correct anything, had changed everything.Thank you for your personal sharing and comments. I look forward to hearing from you.Blessings Irene smithwww.everflowing.org
Read more…
