Working at the Elderly Home Care business, that is truly where my "Death Midwife Spark" really came from. The woman was a mother, grandmother, and great grandmother. She was very loved and surrounded by many family members after being dropped off by an ambulance from the hospital to die at home. She was unresponsive and in the active stages of dying. I felt helpless, not just for myself, but for her family. Everyone stood or sat on the couch with unsure and apprehensive looks on their faces. I didn't know this woman in life, but I could see how much she meant to everyone. Her children took turns standing vigil as I sat next to the hospital bed in the center of the small living room. And I was so on edge, in a house full of strangers, some crying, some angry, the kids and teens faces in their electronics because that was the only way they could cope with all the emotions going on around them. About an hour passed and I started to think that this job really wasn't right for me, when the woman's daughter started to become alarmed as her mother was beginning to spike a temperature.
Without a second thought, I immediately started taking action. Checking her temp and pulse, I realized the entire room was focused on me. I smiled and reassured everyone that this was part of the dying process. That the body loses the ability to regulate temperature as it dies, but we can make her more comfortable by giving her a cool sponge bath. The turning point for me, was when her son looked at me and said, "We are here to help, please tell us what to do. You're the professional."
Truth was, this was my very first day. I thought they knew that fact. I was thrown into this headfirst. No safety net, no life jacket, not even much warning. But his words, his eyes, they were begging me to let him help. And so were the daughter's eyes. I summoned all of my courage and strength and I began giving out instructions. Helping the family look for clean bowls and rags. Taking her hospital gown off and covering her up with towels to preserve her dignity. I had them help me gently wash her with the cool wet rags. Something happened then, they began talking to her, brushing her hair back from her face and wiping her forehead. I saw tears stream down the daughter's face as she looked down at her dying mother with such adoration and a small smile on her face. She was whispering comforting things to her, saying how beautiful she looked and how much everyone loved her. I still can't tell you how I kept myself from bursting into tears that day.
I spent two extra hours at the house with the family, making double and triple sure that they were going to be ok without me there. I would have offered to stay with them up until the very end if my superiors would have let me. They thanked me and understood that I had to leave. When I left, they were still bathing her gently, this time with warm water to help maintain a normal body temp. Interacting with one another and seeming to be in higher spirits than when I arrived. For that I was glad, but I hated having to leave that night. I went home and didn't have much confidence that I did things right. I didn't feel like I did anything to help at all and feared that I made things worse.
I got a call the next morning from my boss. She informed me that the woman had passed away around 4 am still surrounded by her family. She also told me that they thanked me for everything I did for them and for giving their mother the best care possible to keep her comfortable up until her last moments. Those words meant the world to me at that moment. And they still ring clear in my head. I remember everything from that day and it has driven me to help guide others through the dying process.
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