MN Therapy Animals
Hospice...
Because the end of life is part of living
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| In Transition Ann L. Thompson Hospice of the Lakes Volunteer |
As work our way up to the fourth floor, we stop so Honey can say hello to people we
meet along the way. One man’s body is bent to the point that he has difficulty lifting his
head. Honey gently steps in front of his chair so he can easily reach her soft coat for a
good pet. “Nice,” he says through his voice box. Honey turns with interest, tilting her
head in that oh, so special way that dogs do. I don’t think she’s heard that particular
type of communication tool before.
Finally, we enter Ginny’s room. She’s in her wheel chair. As is often the case with
dementia patients, most of her spirit seems to be elsewhere. But I greet her and touch
her arm. Her previously vacant eyes attempt to focus. I invite Honey to step into my
arms so that I can lift her into a position that will allow Ginny to feel Honey’s warm, soft
fur. Ginny gives a slight sigh. Part of her is still here, and it is that part that Honey and I
come to visit.
Once patients facing life-limiting illnesses, along with their family, make the decision for
comfort care rather than curative care, that’s when Hospice and Palliative Care come
into place. It is an honor to be with people as they transition out of this reality. And
there is so much to learn from them. Together, Honey and I are learning about
patience, presence, gentleness and the journey we are each destined to take.
Before long, Ginny’s head tilts as sleep pervades her. As Honey watches, I gently
touch Ginny’s back, intentionally sending thoughts of love and compassion. It wasn’t a
long visit, but we’ve done what we came to do. I trust that those Ginny loves who have
gone before will be there to meet her when the time is right. Until then, Honey and I will
do our part to provide some companionship during Ginny’s final transition.
meet along the way. One man’s body is bent to the point that he has difficulty lifting his
head. Honey gently steps in front of his chair so he can easily reach her soft coat for a
good pet. “Nice,” he says through his voice box. Honey turns with interest, tilting her
head in that oh, so special way that dogs do. I don’t think she’s heard that particular
type of communication tool before.
Finally, we enter Ginny’s room. She’s in her wheel chair. As is often the case with
dementia patients, most of her spirit seems to be elsewhere. But I greet her and touch
her arm. Her previously vacant eyes attempt to focus. I invite Honey to step into my
arms so that I can lift her into a position that will allow Ginny to feel Honey’s warm, soft
fur. Ginny gives a slight sigh. Part of her is still here, and it is that part that Honey and I
come to visit.
Once patients facing life-limiting illnesses, along with their family, make the decision for
comfort care rather than curative care, that’s when Hospice and Palliative Care come
into place. It is an honor to be with people as they transition out of this reality. And
there is so much to learn from them. Together, Honey and I are learning about
patience, presence, gentleness and the journey we are each destined to take.
Before long, Ginny’s head tilts as sleep pervades her. As Honey watches, I gently
touch Ginny’s back, intentionally sending thoughts of love and compassion. It wasn’t a
long visit, but we’ve done what we came to do. I trust that those Ginny loves who have
gone before will be there to meet her when the time is right. Until then, Honey and I will
do our part to provide some companionship during Ginny’s final transition.
As I walk into the building, people in wheelchairs smile
and say "Isn't she pretty!" When I notice that their
eyes are looking toward the floor, I realize they’re not
talking about me, but my partner Honey, an eight-year-
old sable sheltie. “Isn’t she nice!”
Honey’s name fits her disposition.
.
and say "Isn't she pretty!" When I notice that their
eyes are looking toward the floor, I realize they’re not
talking about me, but my partner Honey, an eight-year-
old sable sheltie. “Isn’t she nice!”
Honey’s name fits her disposition.
.
