I have been so fortunate to be a social worker and now a field team manager for JourneyCare. The patients and families I meet truly affirm why I was drawn to this work. Some of the most challenging circumstances I have experienced working with family members became some of the most exciting, compelling and educational cases I have ever had the privilege of working on and I consider them “gifts.”
In my five years with JourneyCare, there have been so many moments that stand out and truly touched my heart...moments made possible by care teams working together creatively and pooling resources, all to make a difference, big or small, for patients and families.
Children can, and do, grieve and children process their grief through play. Two concepts that my training has taught me and two concepts that I have witnessed firsthand countless times as a child life specialist. Yet, somehow, these two concepts became more real to me than they ever were as I sat with a five-year-old sibling of a three-year-old hospice patient in her backyard, providing support as she learned that a frog she caught and had been caring for had died.
She talked about playing with him the day before, how he seemed to really enjoy the dirt, and how sad she was that he had died. She cried as she talked about how much she would miss him; kissed him as she talked about saying goodbye. We picked flowers, prepared his resting place, and said what we would miss about him. Throughout the interaction, she discussed the parallels between her brother’s anticipated death and the death of her frog. She cried for both as she attempted to reconcile what was to come.
If you knew today would be the last day of your life, how would you live it?
Many might imagine themselves emptying their bank accounts, splurging on an over-the-top dinner and night of frivolity in a last grasp at indulgence. Others possibly envision doing something taboo because they wouldn’t be around to suffer the consequences. Many see themselves scrambling to check off items on their “bucket lists.”
I think these are fantasies. Daydreams. In fact, I believe most of us actually would spend our final 24 hours with just a little bit more of what we already have. A little more love. A little more time spent with friends. A little more family. I don’t think we would change much. We probably would call everyone we cared about and tell them, “I love you.”
Hospice care offers us this closure.
I am so blessed to be working here at JourneyCare. My first two months have been filled with one amazing day after another. I am humbled by the heartfelt work I have seen firsthand and I am so proud and thankful for everything I have experienced thus far.
I joined JourneyCare in December, 2015, as Senior Director of Service Excellence. In this role, I’m collaborating with virtually every aspect of the organization; with a focus on developing a culture filled with programs and values and a walk-of-life that prepares us to deliver service excellence filled with magic moments.
We all have unique journeys to share that somehow guide us to where we are today.
The CBS Sunday Morning show featured Dennis and Maggie's story this Sunday, Valentine’s Day.
“No thank you,” I told Cathy Fine, a bereavement counselor from JourneyCare, “I have no interest in counseling. I’m a trained social worker who has helped many others deal with loss and I certainly can handle mine.” I informed Cathy that I knew what to expect in the stages of grief and that I had my adult children to comfort me. I didn’t need anything else. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
My wife, Maggie, died in our home after three weeks of hospice care. We had been married for 41 years, 2 months, 20 days, 9 hours, and 50 minutes and we were blessed with four children and seven grandchildren. When Maggie’s life ended, my life stopped.
It’s clear to see that the nurses, doctors, certified nursing assistants and volunteers at JourneyCare are dedicated to patients and their families.
After all, these staff members provide outstanding care for them face-to-face every day.
But so many of us behind the scenes are equally passionate about hospice and palliative care and help in our own ways – whether it’s by working to keep our Hospice CareCenters and offices beautiful, managing administrative responsibilities, or by raising funds to help patients with limited means.
In our case, we in the JourneyCare Marketing Communications department are committed to spreading the word about hospice care and palliative care so that everyone in need can easily find us. We believe everyone should know how to access this supportive care while facing a serious illness. And we love sharing touching stories from our patients and families, since we know that hearing about those who have “been there” can often help someone access care sooner.
It’s pretty much a fact that bitterly cold winter days are made infinitely better by a bowl of soup, a warm blanket and a game of cards. JourneyCare’s third annual Soup & Stories volunteer service project, which takes place over the Martin Luther King, Jr. Holiday weekend, exists to provide these very items to hospice patients and their families.
The winter season is one of dichotomous feelings and expectations. With a flux of holidays, considered by many to be “the most wonderful time of the year,” there also comes the sadness mirroring a period of loss, change, darkness, and cold. For those who have experienced a recent death of someone they love, there are constant reminders of traditions and memories, but also of the empty place at the family table. As a grief therapist with JourneyCare throughout the past three years, my calendar grows ever fuller as December rolls around. There is also palpable relief in those I counsel when the holidays have passed us by.
My nursing career was born in intensive care units and emergency trauma rooms, serving patients in fast-paced, critical settings. When dealing with cardiac arrests or other life-and-death emergencies, I felt highly comfortable helping patients in these crucial moments.
So when my nursing focus shifted to hospice and palliative care (first in Northern Virginia), I was also comfortable asking the tough questions.
My mentor, author and RN Maggie Callanan, taught me to use the first two to three hospice visits with our patients to build trust and understand their beliefs, wishes, and needs so that we could best serve them in whatever time they might have.
Maggie stressed the importance of hoping for the best by preparing for the worst and so during the initial visits we intentionally asked: “If you could design your own death, how would you do it?; Where would you want to be and who would you want to be there?; Do you believe in something after death?; What do we need to do to make you feel as comfortable as you can be?”
My dad, Richard Lyons, spent the last four months of his life on the third floor of the Marshak Family Hospice CareCenter. He had been receiving hospice care at my sister's house for two months prior. But on July 16 of this year, his symptoms had worsened and he fell.
When my father initially arrived at the CareCenter it appeared he only had days left to live, but it was such a profound relief to be in such a beautiful place and know he was getting excellent care. His room had an amazing view that I likened to Ireland, where he was born. Being able to walk outside and sit in the gorgeous, peaceful gardens or sit in the family room with the incredible view made the experience pleasant. As it turned out, he did not pass then and it became clear he could actually live a while longer.