By DAVID EPPS
Pastor

A little over four years ago, it became obvious that my father was dying.

He had been battling cancer for two years, had several surgeries, radiation treatment, chemotherapy, and had been fighting a heroic battle. However, the doctors finally sat down with our family and shared the hard truth that he was not getting better, was, in fact, getting worse, and would not recover.

One medical person had suggested that my mother, who was ill herself, consider a nursing home for Dad's last months. My mother wouldn't hear of it. "I will not let Bill die in a nursing home surrounded by strangers. I'll take him home before I do that."

On one of my visits to Tennessee, Dad's doctor suggested that Mom consider in-home hospice care. I was unfamiliar with that type of hospice care, but was very aware of excellent residential hospice facilities in the Atlanta area. I assumed that a hospice was a place where someone went in order to die. I was about to learn something new.

I discovered that hospice care is recommended when a patient has a terminal illness with a life expectancy of six months or less; when the patient no longer seeks curative treatment; and when the patient desires to shift the attention and focus to family and personal issues and to measures of comfort.

I discovered that there are two primary goals of hospice care. The first is that the patient be free of pain and other uncomfortable symptoms (while remaining as alert as possible). The second goal is the successful bereavement of the family and loved ones. The goal is to help, not only the patient, but the grieving family.

In in-home hospice care, the family becomes the primary source of care with the hospice staff (which includes a medical director, nurses, aids, social workers, ministers, therapists, volunteers, and others) supporting the family and providing the treatment.

In other words, the terminally ill patient goes home to die, surrounded by friends and family, and lives out his or her last days pain-free and alert. All the while, nurses, social workers, chaplains, volunteers and others, visit the home, care for the patient, and assist the family to make this most difficult of transitions.

My mother agreed to in-home hospice care and Dad went home. The hospice folks, who are generally paid by Medicare and Medicaid benefits, brought in a special bed, equipment, medicine in short, everything needed.

I also discovered that members of a hospice staff are a special breed of people. Many, like Karen Hennessy, R. N., of Countryside Hospice in Newnan, Ga., have, themselves, lost a loved one to an illness and have experienced hospice care. In Karen's situation, her husband, Tom, died peacefully at home with Karen at his side and other members of his family within a few minutes of the house. Now, Karen does hospice admissions, fully understanding the compassion and sensitivity needed during this agonizing process.

Father David Jones served as a volunteer chaplain for Olsten Hospice in Fayetteville. Father Jones took communion to the sick, prayed and read scriptures, and, at times, would bring his guitar and softly sing songs of worship as he brought the Church to those who were unable to leave their bed.

Other volunteers have taken ill patients fishing or have played chess or checkers with those who cannot leave the house. Sometimes, other volunteers just sit with the patient while the spouse goes to the grocery store or simply takes a long, much needed, solitary walk.

My father would die the Thursday after the second Sunday in September 1996. His last days were spent in the house my family had occupied for some 40 years. He ate Mom's cooking, had visits from family members, and had the gentle and loving care of my mother.

Mom wasn't certain she was up to the task, but, with the help of hospice staff, she did a marvelous job. My brother, Wayne, also came to the house nearly every day and assisted Mom in taking care of Dad.

My father originally had lung cancer that eventually moved to the brain. His last days were pain-free and spent in familiar surroundings. When he died, the hospice staff came to the funeral and cried just like they were members of the family.

Mom couldn't say enough good things about the people from the hospice who came to see Dad. In fact, they would follow up with Mom for the next year making sure she would be okay.

After the funeral was over and my father was buried, my mom looked at me and said, "I guess I've done all I can. It's time to go home." I don't think she could have made that statement if she hadn't brought Dad home. Hospice made that possible.

During this November, which is National Hospice Month, I'd like to thank all those people who make the last days of people like my father times of peace and joy. Dad died with dignity, free from pain, surrounded by people who loved him. Thank God for that.

Thank God for hospice care. Thank God for that special breed of people who visit the sick and comfort the dying and their families.

[Father David Epps is rector of Christ the King Charismatic Episcopal Church in the south metro area of Atlanta. He may be contacted at FatherDavidEpps@aol.com, or at www.ChristTheKingCEC.com.]

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