Many pregnant women choose to have “home births” for a lot of reasons. I would like to talk now about “home deaths”. In our past, most people died at home until the last century where hospitals became the place to die. I don’t believe it was ever the best place and should have only been done out of absolute necessity.
Doctors and nurses take an oath to heal and I think death is hard for them to accept. Things are definitely getting better for the patient that has to die in a hospital but dying at home is by far the sweeter of the alternatives, at least in my opinion and experience.
I would like to talk just a bit about my experience for those of you that might find yourself in a situation of helping a loved one die at home. I have now been with and assisted 3 different family members make their transition and I feel blessed to have done so.
What I want to share are the little things. Like how in the beginning of the process, foot massages are wonderful to the patient but the closer they get to death, the less they can tolerate being rubbed or even touched. And I can’t stress enough the need to keep ahead of pain medication.
I remember once with my dad, my sister called me on a Wednesday night and said that they had not wanted to wake him up to take his pain medication and when he did wake up he was in so much pain that they couldn’t get it in control and they had to call an ambulance to take him to the hospital. My sister and I were never willing for him to be alone when he was in the hospital but I got a call from her at about 3:00 am and she had a migraine headache and needed to go home. She said that they had just gotten my dad to sleep so I told her to go ahead and leave because I could be there in an hour an a half and that I was sure he wouldn’t wake up before I got there. She made me promise to call and let her know that he was asleep when I got there.
I got there in record time and he was sleeping peacefully. I took my cell phone into the bathroom leaving the door open a crack where I could see him sleeping while I called her to let her know that I was there and that he was asleep just as we thought he would be. We were so thankful that he was asleep. While I was whispering to her and watching him through the crack in the door, the room was suddenly flooded with light and a nurses aide was saying in a loud voice “Wake up Mr. Beck…it’s time to take your sleeping pill…Wake up…Wake up”. I assure you that I came out of that bathroom like an avenging demon, scaring the wits out of her.
I’m not proud of the things I said to that woman but I just couldn’t believe the insensitivity of the hospital workers when it came to dying patience. I knew I had to get him out of there. I called my sister back and discussed it with her and she agreed and we called an ambulance to take him home.
Up until that time, my sister and mother both thought that the hospital was the best place for him as he got nearer to death but I knew that the best place for him was at home and that it would work out perfectly. I still believed that “Providence would aid me in my commitment” to help him die in peace in the comfort of his home.
There were many sweet moments between that homecoming and his death and there was great fear on my part at least, for the pain that he might have to go through. When I arrived the last Thursday of his life, the nurse was there finishing his bath and he was in a lot of pain. By the time we got him to sleep, I knew that I would do anything to keep him asleep. It was at that time that I learned about the blessings of “Liquid Morphine”.
To be continued…
