Much Better

Thanks for all your thoughts and prayers, emails, and help.  After a rough day yesterday, due to reactions to the anesthesia and painkillers, Mama Hungry is feeling better this morning.  She is in good spirits, remarking that this was "surgery-lite" compared to this summer's probable one!  Her parents were wonderful, the kids were great, and I am stronger than I have been in two years.  So, as good as can be.  We should have the results in a week or so, with surgery, barring unforeseen results, at the end of July sometime.


But, so I don't forget, a few things I learned, very specific to us:


In the hospital:

• Take as little as possible to the hospital--who really reads in waiting rooms anyway?  I lugged around a book and two magazines and never took them out of the bag.  Though, oddly, there was not a magazine or paper to be found in the whole hospital!  This might change for a longer surgery or multiple-day stay.
• It takes longer than you think.  
• And the follow-up:  get used to not knowing.  They wouldn't give us any information until about 10 minutes before they were ready to discharge her--she woke up, ate, walked around, etc--before they told us.  Which is probably why it took so long.  Even though we had asked--politely and patiently--before that.  (When I had my two outpatient surgeries there, they let Mama in with me beforehand and she was there when I woke up.  Not sure why yesterday was different).
• Which leads to:  you're pretty helpless.  Relinquish illusions of control and you'll feel better.  This is my lesson right now in many things!
• Yep, hospital visits are very good exercises in mindfulness and the Four Noble Truths!
• Medications and anesthesia make Mama nauseous and dizzy--more anti-nauseals next time.

• For the patient:  socks, change of comfy clothes, lotion, lip balm, driver's license, insurance card, nothing but eyeglasses.
• For the waiting caregivers:  charged smartphone!, water, hand sanitizer,
• About the drive home:    validated parking pass, easy directions to pick up spot and then home for whomever is driving. patient in front seat, clear driveway so shortest walk to the house.

At home:

• I should have done more of the chores so I had less to do yesterday--run the dishwasher early and unloaded it, finished off the last load of laundry, etc--we had prepped the kids' morning routine beforehand but not the evening (or next morning) and so were stuck with chores to do, a nauseous patient, and exhaustion.  
• There is always a trip to the pharmacy.  Always.  Good time to get whatever the patient wants to eat or do.  Nice way for caregiver to take a break (at least for me).
• For the patient:  crackers, applesauce, rice, broth, toast (Sis made Mama's favorite, with butter and sugar!), gingerale (or Zinger Punch), remote controls and the phone (in a handy basket), clean clothes, various distractions (we had iPad games, new videos, a magazine, and pre-recorded tv), charged phone and computer, ice packs/heating pads as needed.
• For the caregiver:  a few easy meals already done (would paper plates be overkill??  Ma and Gong cooked last night but that was probably too much), iced coffee, and chocolate!  :)  
• Extra hands are always needed--we were very grateful for Ma and Gong.  Sis and Bud were also immensely helpful.

To Do Before Next Time:

• get a lamp for Mama's nightstand
• clean the house right beforehand (empty fridge for extra meals; empty litterbox for cats, who stayed in their room all day with people in and out; especially clear the bedroom; charge the toothbrushes!)
• big run to stores (grocery, pet store) for staples a day or so before
• pay bills early (because, while we didn't miss any, we were pretty distracted more than just the one day this week)
• and whatever we come up with in the coming days . . . . 

Any helpful hints from those of you who have been here before??  

Compassionate Presence

This post is dedicated to two women at church who are in crisis: Miss D, who is battling complications from lymphoma, and S, a young woman who had surgery today on a tumor. Peace to them and their families.

"Working Definition of Good Spiritual Care: The ability to be compassionate in the face of pain, with the courage and willingness to stand in the presence of suffering, offering a radical hospitality toward those who are in despair." --interfaith handout at workshop

I am a coordinator of pastoral care at church, a new role into which I have only just recently stepped. As a pastoral caregiver, I support the minister in her outreach to congregants by organizing meals, rides, visits, errands, and sending cards. The group (there are two of us) is new and we're working out exactly what we should and can do, as there has not been much of a system in place. I'm interested in this work for several reasons, one of which was the great care and love I received from friends at church when I was pregnant, had the twins, and later had surgery. So, for the last three weeks, I have attended an interfaith caregiving workshop to learn how to offer compassionate presence to people in crisis. This mainly involved an in-depth discussion of listening, the act, or the gift even, of being a present, engaged listener.

I thought I was a good listener. My mom is a great listener, though when she told us as teenagers about "active listening"--with its "I" messages and reflective or rephrasing talk ("I hear you saying that . . .")--we thought she was, um, annoying and teased her about it. But it worked. And works. She's the person you call if you need to talk--no judgment, no interruptions, lots of sympathy and empathy. And I've always wanted to be just like that.

But I have some bad listening habits, as I learned, mainly in my head when I listen--the rushing to figure out what I'm going to say next, trying to solve the problem while the person talks, identifying to such an extent that I don't hear their details. But at least, I don't usually say these things. Which is a good step in the right direction, as I also learned.

Short of repeating the whole class in writing here, I would just say that I learned so much. We learned how to implement listening techniques: with our hearts (being present, being attentive); with our bodies (by making eye contact, mirroring body position and voice tone, using touch); and with our own words (by repeating or mirroring what we heard or allowing silence). We discussed the importance of leaving ourselves out of the conversation, except as a way to connect with the recipient--this is the core of being present for them, for their sake. We learned ways to draw out people's feelings, encourage their own exploration of difficult topics, how to utilize and appreciate silence. We shared our own experiences with being heard, and not heard, and the needs and feelings involved. We considered how we could be "wounded healers," when our own experiences echoed that with which we were faced. Many of the concepts presented in the training drew from two different paradigms: radical hospitality, or the usually spiritual notion of generously and unselfishly giving of oneself in an inclusive and welcoming way; and nonviolent communication, and its understanding of needs and the resulting feelings when they are met and not met.

And the last session, because this was an interfaith training, focused on the "holy." Mind you, this word was used because the majority of participants were UUs (and how odd is that?); if it had just been Christians, no doubt, they would have used "God." But we learned what a minefield religion can be in a caregiving situation and how to include it without infringing on others' beliefs--this intrigued me. We talked about food, meditation, art/music, readings, touch, gifts like my prayer shawls. We even talked about how to pray with someone. Though I'm not sure I see myself doing this, it was fascinating to learn about constructing a prayer. And so here it goes, my prayer for our new caregiving ministry:

"We came together in these weeks to learn how to serve others in our community. We talked, we shared, we learned, we listened, we were inspired. We hope that we can take these lessons through our congregation and bring the gifts of presence, the gift of this radical love, to our friends and fellow churchgoers in need and in crisis. Thank you for giving us this space, this time, to learn. Blessed be."