Nathan's hot dogs.
Coney Island.
Williamsburg.
Forest Hills.
The Catskills.
I traveled back in time to NYC circa Woody Allen's Radio Days this afternoon, talking with my new hospice friend (? patient seems very clinical, and client too professional. I'm a visitor. Does that make the other person the visitee?). It was actually much easier to have a conversation than I supposed it would be, even though it was punctuated by little naps and distractions.
Things I might have worried about--like not being able to hear or understand the person's speech, witnessing distressing symptoms, running out of things to say--didn't happen . . . this time. I know there will be awkward and difficult moments, if not with this hospice friend, than with the next.
Then, of course, there will be this person's decline and eventual death; it is hospice, after all. And I will write a card for the family and attend the funeral, if I can.
But today was a blessing and I'm looking forward to my weekly visits.
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