My name is Kristin Santa Maria, and I am a nurse. More
precisely, I am a Hospice nurse. When people casually ask me what I do for a
living, and I say “I am a Hospice nurse”, invariably what comes next is the sad
face, the sad puppy eyes, and always the
question……..”OOOhhhhhh…….how on earth do you do that every single day?” Even though I know this same question is coming,
it always takes me aback. Because
honestly what I do, is just simply, who I am.
Please understand that I know being on the receiving end of a Hospice nurse,
makes me about as welcome as the dog catcher or foot fungus. Please
understand that on the day I get the name of a patient, they also get a name…..my
name. They hear my name, as they and
their family also had to sit and hear the words, “We will call Hospice in to
help you, because there is nothing else we can do to extend your life.” I fully understand that these words shifted
the center of their universe. And not for
one second, I do take that lightly. I
understand the finality and weight of those words, and the fear that those
words can bring.
Please know, that as I
read the history and physical sent to me from the doctor’s office that
describes the nature and course of a disease process, that first and foremost,
I read the name of the person that I will walk this sacred journey with. Because to me, this person…..this Father,
Mother, wife, husband, sister, brother, son, daughter, aunt/uncle, Grandparent,
cousin, friend……ultimately are not defined by this disease process, but
instead, who they are to others, and the depth of the life that they are
currently living. Their name connects me
to WHO they are. They are sick…they are
going to die..…I get that. But they are
so much more than this illness. And
given the fragile nature of this situation, I need to help them fully live……for
as long as time allows. I will study and
understand their disease process for purposes of unpleasant symptom control
only. But this season I venture into
with them requires me to dig much deeper, and to be in touch with the bigger
picture of who they are, who they were created to be, and what they presently need
to end this race well.
Once I have a dear one’s name in hand, and place them on my
heart, I venture into their driveway. I
do this having little to no information about what sort of environment I am
about to walk in to. Sometimes I am
received with open arms of people standing in the yard to eagerly usher me
in. Other times, I am met with cold,
angry eyes, fearfully peering at me out of closed blinds. And let me just say, as I enter their home,
I understand am a nobody in their life. I
have never met these people. I have never
been to any of the family dinner’s, weddings, funerals, holidays, birthday
celebrations, and yet, I show up on this day to begin a most painful and
arduous task of walking someone through their journey home. Sometimes I am received well and other times,
not so much. I have had shoes thrown at
me, dogs sicked on me, guns pulled on me, and hostile accusations of trying to
kill people……along with marriage proposals, attempts to write me in will’s, offers
to adopt me, and unrefusable gifts of more baked goods than Santa Clause. People
have unsuccessfully requested for me to help end a life sooner than the number
of days that their Creator allotted, while others have pleaded unsuccessful
requests for me to keep them here longer than their given days allowed. But I am
a simple girl, made of skin cells just like you. I don’t have any super hero powers, which quite
honestly would be of SUCH benefit given my profession.
But my ace in my pocket is that I am an ambassador to The Creator…..the
one who designed on purpose, for purpose, the one you so dearly love and that
I have been entrusted to care for during these precious final days. And as I drive onto their property I always
pray, “Dear Lord……you must give me the words, because on my own, I have
none. Just let me be your hands and
feet.”
As I walk into their home, I
understand that I have about 5 minutes to size up the situation. I have a few precious moments to understand
the dynamics of their family. And let me
just say……we all have some dynamics, some more colorful than others. I must quickly grasp the depth and nature of
their faith, their hopes, their expectations, and their fears about the subject
matter that is lurking ahead of us so menacingly. As I look around their home, I quickly learn
where their heart is by absorbing the family photos, the hand drawn crayon
pictures on the refrigerator, and the different collections of their life. The things we collect along the way, truly
paint a picture of the journey of a person’s life.
Within 5 minutes, I must have absorbed their past, understand
their present…….and then be prepared to paint a picture that they can be
comfortable with, of what is in their immediate future.
When we think about
situations when someone dies suddenly, unexpectedly…….we always say “I wish
that I had just 5 more minutes to say…..to do……to let them know……” As I begin this journey with them, and as I
prepare them for what is to come, I know that my biggest job is to help them
understand that this is their gifted time…….this time, IS their 5 more minutes. This is your time to say, to do, to tell, to
ask. I encourage them to make memories,
and to create tangible memories that will give comfort to those that will be
left to grieve. I encourage them to let their loved ones know how big an impact they had on their life.
We all want to know that we made a difference…….that our legacy will
live on……that we had impact in the lives of people. And I do all of this while quietly directing
them about pain meds, nausea meds, how to ease shortness of breath, arranging
medical equipment, and incontinent supplies……and of course, managing poop. Seriously, in the midst of dying, why do we
have to deal with the issues of poop?
There is always either too much of it…….or not enough. I also become their counselor, their adviser,
their encourager, their prayer warrior, their friend.
When I drove into their driveway, I fully understood the
cost. I understood that I would have to
get close to someone that I would soon be saying goodbye to. Yes, I know this is not my loved one…….but
in the end, they allow me to fall in love with them too, even if it is for a
brief moment in time. I understood that
I would get to see this family in one of its finest hours, as they surrounded
and guard their dear one that we would ultimately be sending home. I get to see them all take time off from
work, school, life, and it’s never a convenient time. And yet, they don’t complain.
I see them all intricately weave together a schedule of care
for their loved one, and arrange their lives, their schedule, their needs,
where they go and how long they stay, around what is needed to be done for the
one they love. And that by no means is
an easy task. I get to see relationship
wounds heal, faith affirmed, estrangements resolved, miracle moments of
prodigals return, and I get to help orchestrate and encourage those very
delicate, necessary, and intimate heartfelt goodbyes. I see people's comfort zones broaden beyond anything they could have ever imagined they
were capable of doing. It’s easy to be a
family on a Sunday picnic. But to me, this is when I get to see the true
core of a family. And let me just say,
these families never cease to amaze me.
Given what I do every day, sometimes people say to me “You
must be good at detaching from your emotions.”
My response to this is, “Are you insane?”
How on earth could you detach from this situation?
How could you be in the presence of a life…..a child of
God……who has come to the end of their journey, and not understand how powerful
and moving that is? Because these
families are so gracious to share with me this precious soul, and this intimate
journey, I truly do physically feel the pain with them as we together navigate
the rough waters that are ahead in this stormy season.
While we celebrate their life, I along with them, also
grieve their absence. It is an
absolute privilege for me to be allowed into their home……into their life…….and
entrusted to care for THIS most delicate situation they are facing. I am always so thankful that they share their
loved ones with me for just a brief moment in time. A moment I would have missed, had I chosen
to sell cars or be an accountant for a living.
I believe that our life is a collection of moments. And I believe that there are moments in life,
that inspire the REST of your moments in life.
I want them to know, that the moments that we share together,
are the ones that inspire me to keep on doing, what I do. Many times I share stories of the people I
have cared for, with people who are just beginning this final season of life
and they are afraid, and uncertain, but their stories provide comfort and peace
like no medication can.
Their stories offer some light, in what can seem like the
darkest of situations. These dear ones,
live on in the work I continue to do, every, single, day. They are, my inspiration. The families, are my inspiration. And I want the families to know that I don’t
forget them, or the ones that leave us.
We cry with them……..we grieve with them…….and we remember them.
And given that I walk this gifted time with them, part of my
pain is fully understanding…..that in any situation……. 5 more minutes is just
never enough time.
So when people ask me “How do you do that job every, single,
day? My simplest and most honest answer is ………“How could I not?”
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