Here's another quote I found that really hit home for me for the terminally ill client. Cicely Saunders, founder of St. Christopher's Hospice in London and initiator of the modern hospice movement, said that dying persons ask three things of their caregivers:

(1) "Help me" (minimize my distress)
(2) "Listen to me" (let me direct things or at least be heard)
(3) "Don't leave me" (stay with me; give me your presence)

As caregivers we need to remember that everyone deserves to die with dignity. No one should have to die alone.

Thanks kendbeef, I agree wholeheartedly with you and cd.We cannot run or hide from death, it finds us all. Would we as caregivers want to die alone?I have only worked with the elderly and terminally ill and the three things asked of caregivers is so true. I always try to put myself in other peoples shoes, so that I may better understand where they are coming from, it has helped me connect and earn the trust of many wonderful people throughout my life!!! I hope I never lose the ability to do that or become so hard and callous that I have the attitude that it's just another day. I would leave the medical profession before I would treat a patient like that. Thank you for this topic.

Studying about death and dying has really opened my eyes and given me more confidence on what to say and not say to someone who has lost a loved one. My husband had a little brother who was killed in a farming accident when he was 4. My in-laws went on to start the local chapter of Compassionate Friends in our county. About a year ago we had some friends who lost their 16 y/o son in an MVA. I asked my mother-in-law what should I say to my friends, I can't say I understand how you feel, because I haven't lost a child. She told me that they best thing you can say is "I'm so sorry for you loss" and just be there to listen. I think that as nurses we should never forget to "listen to our patient". The hospital may be full and you have more than your share of patients but don't ever let a patient think that you don't have time for them. Even if you have to tell them that you'll come back...do so...and then make sure you go back and listen to them. I see too many people in the medical profession who are in it for all the wrong reasons. I'm so thankful for this website because everyone on here is so encouraging and you can tell that you all are in your professions for all the right reasons. God Bless!

I used to fear death, until one person on here reminded me what its about and how to handle it properly, since then I have had a close relative die- well, she not exactly a biological realative, but we both considered each other as such...unfortunately I couldnt make it to the funeral... but I was warm in spirit knowing that she was comfortable and ready to go, she made that very firm to us, she was 103 years old. She lived a head strong life, she married a great man, she had beautiful children and raised them with pride. Dignity, is the first gift as medical professionals that we can give someone who is preparing to go to their final destination. We must be adement and determined to strive to be comfortable with death. As I write this I think to myself about how I used to feel, but one day I may just have to relay the news with a doctor to a patient, and that doesn't scare me anymore. Because without a guarantee of death, we cannot be comfortable with living. Everyone will pass, its just life, but with every passing comes another life. And when one dies, they leave behind a silent legacy which must be kept alive, through good memories, warm heart, a guiding light for the blind, and so on. Death is mearly living. To me, now, dying is a priveledge. It hurts loved ones, however, it is a spirit embarking on a new, healthier, and awesome life. I used to think of heaven in my own way, heaven was a huge bowling alley, and when a new person arrives, everyone teams up and everybody wins. Life is kind of like a tournament, win some, lose some and learn some. Things that cannot be taken back happen daily. the paitents who pass, should be carefree and not absorbed in sorrow, and neither should the families, we should be happy for those people, and be humble when sharing this kind of news to the families. Sure, its a challenge and obstacle, but remember how we are helping the families and the patient become more apt to being comfortable with preperation and kindess, but yet being ginger enough not to scare or make those doubt. Death isnt supposed to be a scary thing, but a happy thing. thank you kendbeef for a wonderful and uplifting post and to everyone who has posted thereafter. I learned something tonight.

Charlita, you are right. This courageous woman needs her family now more than ever. I wonder if she's talked to her doctors about this. It's really sad.

Her family may never get to acceptance. People go through the stages of grieving at different speeds, and many never accept the prognosis. Some go back and forth between stages. And that's all OK.

Many family members don't know how to approach the death of a loved one. By ignoring it, they don't have to face it. This lady is a perfect candidate for hospice, but many patients and/or their families don't seek hospice care because they believe it means they are "giving up." In reality what hospice strives to do is to provide relief from suffering, support through the dying process, and to help the patient and family enjoy as high a quality of life as possible.

Carolyn's response to the reader does fall short: she urges the patient to force the truth about her situation on family members who may not be ready. They are not cowards even though Carolyn is right in her assessment about how we as a society view death. The patient needs counseling and support: through her pastor, a professional counselor, hospice, or a support group. She does need to be honest and open with her family but she cannot force them to accept the situation before they are ready. The best she can hope for is that if her family or friends can't/won't support her, that she can find a substitute.

What a great post kend!! Its funny how you find the words you need when you need them most.. This is one of the reasons i went into nursing, when i had my daughter they were down right nasty, but when my father passed the icu nurse had also lost her father years before, you could see the hurt in her eyes for me and my brother, its nice when you can have compassion and someone who has been threw it help you threw your pain as well..

here is a quote I am not sure where I found it but it really touches home to all nurses "People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did. But people will never forget how you made them feel."

All I have to add to all the great post is: Thank you for being my friends. Thank you for being great caregivers.
Without the care of nurses, cna's and hospice so many would not get the validation of their feelings they need. Sometimes being family is not enough.

Pamelab said:

Speaking of death,my sister in law was diagnosis with cancer(sarcoma)
her leg was amputated.she is only 42 years old Now she is a hospice patient at home.
she only has days to live,it's sad to see what the family is going through,actually it's devastating
to watch,wish i can do more 4 them.

Pamelab my father just passed away about a year ago from cancer, You may not think you are doing enough, but just being there ,holding a hand, or listening is more helpful they people think. god bless

My father lived about six years longer than his cardiologist thought he would. He had severe heart disease, brought about mostly from him having a year of recurring strep throat, where he would take his antibiotics until he felt better and stop, only a few weeks later to reoccur. This resulted in rheumatic heart disease. So after 3 heart attacks, quadruple by pass, another single bypass surgery 10 years later, multiple stent placements, AICD pacer, he began to fall. After 19 falls, the last resulting in 50 sutures across his forehead because he hit his head on the sliding door track, he was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. Sinemet worked for two years, then he went down hill very quickly, and he was prescribed a new drug, (which I can not remember right now what it was, it's advertised on tv for restless leg syndome which he also had) This straightened everything around for another another year, but his memory was failing and was then diagnosed with Alzheimers. He lasted another two years, until his last bout with pneumonia and he really went downhill. My step mother hung on, did everything she could to keep him going. When Dad was admitted into a hospice facility for a week's respite care, she heard me tell him, if he was tired of it all, then it was okay. I had told him this for over a year and received this same answer. I can't leave Lida. She heard him and when I left to go take care of a few things, she told him, she loved him and she understood if he was tired and needed to let go. That night he became agitated and hospice called me to come in. He was calling my name and I hurried up and dressed and went to him. He told me he loved me, and to make sure I took care of Lida for awhile. I told him I loved him as well and assured him I would take care of her if she allowed it. An hour after I left that morning to go back to where my travel assignment was he slipped quietly into a coma. When Lida called, I felt I had already said my goodbyes, so I finished out the week, since it was my last one there. Drove back on late friday afternoon. He hung on until 11pm Monday May 16,2004. Everyone had left and I chose to stay so he wouldn't be alone. He took a deep last breath and was gone. I sat there for a half hour, holding his hand and then went out to the nurse's station and told them he was gone. The CNA, Mattie took me in her arms and gave me the hug I needed. The nurse Sherry, did the same. The three of us went to Dad's room and after I called Lida, helped Mattie clean Dad up and get him ready for the family to get there. I miss him very much, but his idea of heaven was an 18 hole golf course, and I hope he plays golf every day with a long stop at the 19th hole, enjoying his single malt scotch.

char, my mother died April 1,1981 and I miss her every day. Twenty seven years later, the pain is less, but somehow more poignant as I remember her now. Ironically, I pronounced both my parents at their deaths.

No charlita, it was a gift. My mother was surrounded by those who loved her and died in my father's arms, her sister holding her hand and the rest of us standing close. Somewhere in my father's mind, he chose his time. After everyone else left and I was there alone with him, his spirit flew.