September 9th 2010,
When you say yes to every opportunity that presents itself, you experience new things every day. Today I:
Learnt the three clicks of the isiXhosa language.
Had lunch at Ronnie’s sex shop - a shady pub on R62, South Africa’s version of Route 66.
Helped with actual application of palliative care.
And it’s just after lunchtime.
I want to tell you about all these things that I see and especially all these people I have met.
It may seem deceptively simple to say that one thing I want to do, daily, is make people smile (That’s why I smile often – it tends to be mirrored). When I can do nothing else, when I have no language, and no offer-able skills, I can connect on a united level through a smile.
This morning I shadowed Alida and her trainee, Margaret on their home-based care visits and met patients Charl, Ella, Maria, and Ashler*. At Charl’s house I had an entire conversation with a knee-high child at knee-level, in which we did not understand one of each other’s words. With Ella, the communication was much easier. We talked about how money is short and how she will never move into an old age home. This woman had a smile that spread slowly, hesitantly, across her face, stopping at every emotion along the way between mild interest and a beaming smile. Every time she started to smile I wasn’t entirely sure she was headed towards a smile. But every time, she was.
Maria, did not smile. But she made Alida and Margaret laugh like no other, humourizing her fear of needles as a diabetic and her refusal to have her toes amputated, even though they’ve lost all circulation.
And where I was most reminded of the connection possible through a smile was in Ashler’s room. Shrouded in bright pink – sheets, curtains, pillows – Ashler was the first patient to (literally) reach out her hand to me. Her one good hand that is not paralyzed by her recent stroke. This was where I was practically useful in palliative care. I helped to bedwash Ashler and physically helped to lift her in and out of bed. Through the possibly demeaning, embarrassing experience of being bathed entirely by three other women (including myself) I made an effort to maintain eye contact and to reassure and communicate with my eyes and my smile. After washing, lotioning and moisturizing Ashler's bedsores, I did not want to leave this woman. I wanted to sit and listen to all she could tell me, all day. But my ride arrived and after taking her hand, thanking her, and a smile, I left.
Palliative care is not just for dying people. This is what I’m learning: palliative care is an approach and an effort to improve the quality of life and provide dignity in death. I embrace this idea through the holistic approach, but I am only starting to actually understand what it means to walk into a home that could be broken by disease, but has been upheld by restoring someone who might be very sick, to their home.
I’m not always sure how I ended up in palliative care, but I’m glad I did. It seems the people I can learn to work with and hope to connect with and support are those in need of palliative support and those healing from sexual assault. Kind of complete opposites, and yet not. I have so much to learn, but imagine my attraction comes in trying to restore wholeness, not necessarily health or life, but support and a holistic approach. This applies in both fields. (I want to figure this out more and articulate it better – but really it’s all about relationships)
I’m learning so much, I have so much to learn. Do you think I could even take in this much information per week all 10 months I’m here? Think how much I would have learnt by June.
It’s interesting creating a community here. It’s beautiful the way connections are made; independent and self sufficient, I’m making decisions about who I want to become. I’m most definitely in the process of becoming someone. Not sure I’ll ever arrive at someone, but loving connecting along the way.
Love,
Sarah
*Names may be changed for privacy.
Thank you person close to Sarah who told her to post this.
ReplyDeleteAmen to that
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