Home for Hospice
Estimated reading time: 11 minutes, 54 secondsHome for Hospice
“Hello sweetheart, how are you today?” I had arrived at the hospital for Wednesday’s visit knowing that I could not tell Jan about hospice. I have never been a poker player because I cannot hide my feelings. Today would be difficult, but I had no choice but to hold back my emotions and keep the information to myself.
“I am happy to see you, but I am tired of the hospital. I can’t wait until I am home with you.”
Holding back tears, I kissed her lips.
Almost as soon as I arrived, they came in to give her another blood transfusion.
I stepped out of the way, but there was not much space in this room. It was a small hospital room as the bed filled up almost of the space. The sitting area was minimal. How will we fit everyone in when we tell her about hospice?
Once the transfusion started, I sat next to her and handed her the milkshake.
“This is so good!”
“I love you,” I said. “We got this one from Vanilla Bean Creamery.”
I tried to help her best, but COVID rules would not allow me to go out of the room to get ice chips or ask for anything.
After lunch, she napped, and I nervously watched the time. We had agreed on 2 pm for the meeting with Jan.
“Did you have a good nap?” It was now 1:45 pm.
I got up to stretch and look down the hallway.
As happy as I was to see Mike and Jon, I felt my stomach drop to my ankles.
“It’s my sons!”
“I was able to get them in today as a special treat for you,” I said while still hiding the truth.
Jon sat on her right side and Mike on the other. Any other moment in our lives and this would have been a joyous reunion.
Rabbi Renee walked in just after them.
“Jan, how are you feeling?”
“This is a real surprise. My sons and my Rabbi!”
While she greeted everyone, I stepped toward the doorway to catch my breath and wipe away tears. I must be fully present for Jan. I have to love her more now than ever. She would hear the news that she only had weeks to live in a few moments.
I looked up, and Dr. Saksena was standing in the doorway.
“It looks like you have a full house today! How are you feeling,” Dr. Saksena asked.
The Rabbi was on the far end of the couch by the window. Dr. Saksena sat in the middle, and I stood next to her.
“Jan, as I said, I consulted with Dr. Strair about the next steps.”
Jan smiled and waited on the news.
“What would you like to do? If you were cancer-free.”
“Finish re-building my office, travel, and spend time with my sons.”
“As you know, we have done three treatments, and the lymphoma is still inside you and very aggressive.”
Jan nodded her head.
“We cannot treat the lymphoma because of COVID and cannot treat the COVID because of the lymphoma. Unfortunately, we only have one option left. Our recommendation is hospice care.”
Jan looked straight ahead, and I wanted to leap across the bed and hold her.
After what seemed like an hour but was only a minute, Jan asked, “How much time do I have left?”
“Only a few weeks.”
The tension in the room was unbearable. I tried to work my way next to Jon to hold her hand, but there was not enough room.
“OK. I know an agency that does hospice care.”
“You are coming home or to my house,” said Mike.
“Is there enough room?”
“Mike and I have already started to talk to the hospice team in the hospital,” said Jon.
“Home is where you need to be, honey. Home with all of us,” I said.
Dr. Saksena left, and we talked about logistics. I could not focus on the logistics. All I could think about was could I live without the love of my life?
After an hour, everyone left except for me.
All I could say to her was how much I loved her.
Jan was serene and had accepted hospice easier than I had.
When I left Jan to go home in the evening, I stood in the parking deck and wept openly.
I looked at my phone and saw this text message from Dr. Strair.
Best wishes to Janice and your family for peace and comfort.
April 7, 6:05 pm
“God grant me the strength to love Jan more than ever and help her find peace and comfort,” I screamed as I got into the car.
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After almost 48 years, I recently lost my wife, Jan Lilien. Like The Little Prince, Jan and I believed that “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This blog is a collection of my random thoughts on love, grief, life, and all things considered.
