Hospice

Definitions of Hospice:

A program that provides special care for people who are near the end of life and for their families, either at home, in freestanding facilities.

Philosophy and approach to providing comfort and care at life’s end rather than heroic lifesaving measures.

A program that provides comfort and supportive care for terminally ill patients and their families, either directly or on a consulting basis with the patient's physician or another community agency. The whole family is considered the unit of care, and care extends through their period of mourning.

A facility that specializes in the treatment of terminally ill people, typically providing the services of doctors and nurses to care for a patient and provide pain relief 24 hours a day.

The program for caring for patients who are terminally ill. The focus of hospice care is not to cure the patient but to improve the quality of life.

Supportive care not to extend life, but to control symptoms and improve the quality of life of a patient in the end stages of their disease.

A service allowing terminally ill people the ability to die with peace and dignity.

A service to provide medical, nursing and emotional support for those with illnesses that cannot be cured, as well as advice and support for their families and carers.

So, that's what Hospice is.

Ok, fine. But there is another definition in my mind....."Final". And that's the definition I don't like. As of tomorrow, Grandma will officially be in Hospice care. Hospice is a great service, it really is. I just don't like it. It's too cut & dried, too final.

We have known for 2 weeks that Grandma is not doing well. However, there were days when she wasn't supposed to pull through for the next 24 hrs and she proved everyone wrong. Days when she'd talk to us, laugh with us, say "I love you" to us. So throughout this whole ordeal, even if it was only a 1 in a bazillion chance that she could come through this....there was still that chance. No matter how miniscule it was, it was there.

When you go in to Hospice care, you aren't getting better, and you're not going to. It has gone from the helping to recover phase with a possible chance to improve, to the maintaining comfort in the last hours/days phase with no chance.

Because of that one word, I now have to come to terms with the fact that my Grandma is not going to get better. I have to come to terms with the fact that she will not be here to see her great-grandson get confirmed. She will not be here to see her great-grandaughters graduate from high school. And you know what? Those are things I was able to avoid until today. Hospice. It has given us comfort knowing Grandma will be well cared for in these next few days. But it has also given me a heavy heart knowing these will be her last few days.

Hospice. I hate that word.