Thursday, June 29, 2006

Vacations' All I Ever Wanted...


My honey and I drove up the beautiful Oregon coast
and landed smack dab in Portland....It is an
arresting place....greener than jealousy....cleaner
than the Popes' driving record...and as luck
would have it, sunny and bright.

It is also whiter than a klansman in a snowstorm.

We managed to have a great time anyway.

There's No business Like Show business...

I want to plug my upcoming show...My group called
OUT THE BOX will be performing at the Santa Cruz
Improv Festival on July 9th at the Actors' Theater.

Could there be a better way to wile away those
foggy summer evenings? As always, call 831-425-PLAY
for reservations and ticket information. Tickets will
be $15, cash on the barrel head, at the door.

Saturday, June 10, 2006

Live and Let Die...

Hospice work can present you with
opportunities for real growth....but I
must say, I wasn't quite ready for this one.

B.R. is one of my clients. He has had some
serious health issue and had an appointment
with the head of surgery at General Hospital.
I agreed to take him. He had a tendency to go
in and out of lucidity, and needed someone
there to take down important information.

I went to his room to see if he was ready to go.
B.R. spent most of his time in bed but the nurses
had him dressed and in a wheelchair. He sat just
two feet from the front of his TV with the sound
louder than it should be, watching a game show.
I told him I'd be taking him to his appointment and
that I'd be right back to get him as soon as I checked
on the whereabouts of the wheelchair cab that was
supposed to pick us up and take us to the hospital.

He looked up at me...slowly nodded his head, signaling
that he understood...and flashed an uncommon smile.
He was usually emotional and sad, but he smiled as
if he had some great secret that he was not going to
let me in on.

I walked to my office, and found that the cab was
indeed on its way....I went back to B.R.'s room to
wheel him to the lobby only to find as I opened his
door, B.R. sitting in his wheelchair with his head
cocked back as if he were trying to see something
on the wall behind him. I called his name but he
did not answer. I walked up to him and lifted his
head, still calling his name. His eyes were wide open.
...but he was not breathing. He was gone...just like that.
I stood there for what seemed like a lifetime, holding
his head upright. Then I called out for help.

As a hospice worker, I've seen my share of dead bodies.
But I've never been the one to discover them dead. I was
shaken to the core. I took a long walk...called my Guy
for support...and walked back to the hospice....back to
death and life and death and life. It's been several days
now and I still can feel his eyes on me. I can recall the
texture of his hair and how it felt in my hands as I held him.

He is out of pain now.

My growing pains are just beginning.