The Hard Side of Volunteering for Hospice - it's Not What You Think

Tweet

Before I moved to Maryland from Ohio two years ago, I volunteered giving Reiki at The Cleveland Clinic, and The Gathering Place (a support center for people touched by cancer). Adding volunteer time to my life has been a wonderful and fulfilling activity. I get to know people, and do something really helpful, for which I feel so grateful. 

After moving to Maryland, I sought out volunteer opportunities where I could offer Reiki. I found JSSA Hospice, and they welcomed me. I've been a volunteer at for JSSA for a year now. I am assigned patients, go to them where they are living, and give them Reiki once a week. It's been a very meaningful experience, and I'm really glad to have the opportunity to do this work. 

Lately, though, in my hospice volunteer position, I've been seeing patients who are, basically, "in limbo." They're not actively dying. They're not really "living" either. It's a tougher experience. 

See, some of my patients before were basically ok, considering their diagnosis. They've been diagnosed with 6 months or fewer to live, and are still capable of having a conversation, and telling me where it hurts, and how the Reiki helps. We've laughed together sometimes, and really enjoyed our time. 

Other patients, (or eventually, the same ones) were actively dying. I know how to help these people with Reiki too. The Reiki energy helps them feel more peaceful, breathe deeper, have less pain, and relax. Even if they can't tell me, I can observe that the Reiki is helping.

My current patients are not in either situation. They are caught between worlds. They don't speak, and rarely open their eyes. Their care and feeding are 100% done by the nurses and other staff. They don't seem aware of my presence, and don't respond to my words. I can't tell how the Reiki is helping. I come, greet them, give Reiki, search their faces and bodies for signs of relaxation, or anything at all. It doesn't usually seem evident.  

I'm struggling with this, because part of me is berating myself for wishing for some sort of reaction. "This isn't about me," my inner voice tells me. "I don't need to observe a reaction or receive a 'thank you' to know that I'm doing something that matters. This is for my patients. It's not important whether it's a nice time for me." 

I have given Reiki to many people with cancer, and wished that the Reiki could make them better. I have learned that it's not about what I want. However, I do see that the Reiki is relieving pain and bringing a sense of peace and relaxation that is very helpful for them. So, in that way I can see some benefits happening, which helps. (Helps who? The patient, of course, but I think I'm really talking about it helping me. Helping me what? Helping me be reassured that I'm doing something that matters. Why do I need this? Don't I know that I matter? Isn't that an interesting chain of questions!)

This experience is different though - I can't tell that it's making a difference. I need to rely on my trust in Reiki, and my experiences giving Reiki to people who can tell or show me that it helps, to reassure me that what I'm doing is helping. This time, it's about having faith. Faith has always been difficult for me without the direct experience to confirm it. Even years of being a Reiki practitioner, and getting tons of positive feedback doesn't prepare me well for this. It still requires me to "just believe." 

I know that my past experiences have proven to me that Reiki works. I don't need to know how it works. I don't need to know what it's doing. I'm past that. 

I remind myself that I make a difference, every day. I matter. My words of love, my giving of time, my gifts of healing, they matter. 

Even by doing nothing, I matter. We all matter. Living matters because we all matter. Every life matters, and I know this. I know it in my soul. So, I do find it interesting that I need to sit and type this out to remind myself of what I've been teaching.

So, at these hospice visits, I take a deep breath. I show up. I say hello. I offer Reiki. I ask for peace and healing, for the highest and best, and I thank the Universe, my Guides and Angels, and Spirit for the ability to be of service.

And so it is. 

The Pain in the Process

Tweet

Since August, I've been part of a holistic healing team providing energy and other holistic support for the nicest woman, Lisa. I was asked, along with my good friend and Quantum-Touch practitioner, Ernie Betz, to be part of a team to help her. We all volunteer on various days at 11 am, and go to her house to offer our services. Lisa is 44 years old. She has four children the same ages as mine. She has a doctorate in nursing and worked in a hospital. Her kids are home schooled. She has stage four cancer in her breast and hip bone, and the medical doctors gave up.

Ernie and I have been seeing Lisa weekly on Fridays since August. When we first went, she was very frail, in a hospital bed, and had been unable to even sit up for five weeks. We didn't know if we'd be seeing her the next week or hearing of her passing. Two weeks later, she was sitting and had more energy. Each week, there were more improvements - miraculous and exciting. Most of the summer, she was getting physical therapy to walk again, and the hospital bed disappeared into the attic. She was dressing herself, could stand, and was getting around in a wheel chair. We would talk about her feelings and her progress for about half an hour, and share energy healing the second half. We laughed and shared stories about parenting, healing, and all kinds of things. I attuned her and her husband to Reiki and she read my book. I also shared other books with her, and we gave her healing stones. I've never been part of such an incredible process.

They are a beautiful family. A couple weeks ago, I even brought my kids to play with theirs, and they had a blast, all getting along and really having fun together.

For the past month, though, she has started to have setbacks. She's been having trouble breathing, swelling in the feet and legs, less energy, and difficulty sleeping. They've tried adjusting things including diet, herbal supplements, aromatherapy, homeopathics, etc. Nothing seems to be making a difference.

I have to admit I am having a hard time.

Intellectually, and as a teacher and Reiki practitioner, I know my role. My role is to provide energy. I offer support. The rest is not up to me. It never was. The good, the bad, any results at all are not mine. My feelings are totally incidental to the process. I need to just be grateful for the opportunity to serve. And I am. So very much so that I can't describe the endless depth of it.

But today, she seemed barely there. She hardly spoke. She fell asleep a little. She held a couple ice chips in her mouth to counter the dryness of struggling to breathe despite the oxygen tube just inside her nose. She asked us to help her receive the energy, because she couldn't feel it today.

Her husband is the sweetest, most attentive, positive person I've ever met. Their family has lots of support - meals brought in, people helping with the daily necessity of living, parenting, chores and bills. He has not left her side in weeks.

I am having a hard time.

"I have no right to have a hard time," my snarky voice says. "I'm coming home to a healthy family. I'm healthy. I leave after the hour or two I'm there and go back to my life."

But this experience brings up memories of sitting with my mother-in-law during her final three days as she floated in and out and struggled to breathe. I felt helpless then. I feel helpless now. I know, yes, that the energy I'm providing and my presence is helping. But she is so young. She's my age. Her kids are my kids' ages. This seems so wrong. "Not that I have the right to judge what's wrong or right for another," my snarky voice chimes in. "Yeah, I know," I answer. But it sucks. It's too familiar and I don't want it to be.

I'm also acutely aware that if the healing team hadn't been there, she very likely wouldn't have shared the Fall, much less Christmas or New Year's with her family. And I am grateful for that time. But couldn't all of our combined effort have done MORE? Did I miss something? Was there ANYTHING else we could have done to help? I just don't know.

I don't even know if I'll be able to see her again next week. The thought is like a punch in the gut, as aware as I've been this whole time that it's always been a possibility. Is it even possible that she could have a second turnaround? I just don't know. And, I remind myself, it isn't up to me.

Part of this role is being able to let go of expectations and just be present. That is healing and that is helping. Any agenda, expectations, hopes, celebrations or disappointments just don't belong in the equation. THIS IS HARD!! It's hard because I love them. It's hard because I care and I DO want her to recover; how can I not want this? What kind of person would I be if I was totally detached?

I went back and read my posts I had written (linked above) when we were with my mother-in-law during her final days. It helps to read the comments and also revisit my thoughts and feelings about life, dying, and coping.

I guess that part of life is being aware of the wholeness of it all-- The whole process: beginning and end, living, learning, and also moving on. When it comes to passing, first we do this as a witness, and eventually it's our turn. The best we can do is to just be present in every moment, for every moment we're given, and experience it. That's what life is - the experience.

Thank you for allowing me to share. All of you who read this blog are part of this shared experience.
If you would, please send a thought, prayer, or a stream of healing energy to Lisa's family and all who care for her.

Namaste.

Giving is Receiving

Tweet

One of the most meaningful activities I've been involved with in the past few years has been volunteering. I volunteer as a Group Leader with the Distance Healing Network (http://the-dhn.com), I give Reiki healings twice a month to people dealing with cancer at a local cancer support center The Gathering Place (http://touchedbycancer.org), and for a year I was with The Cleveland Clinic weekly, giving Reiki to patients, staff, and visitors.


The reasons I started volunteering were many. I wanted to get more experience with Reiki and help those who want it. I wanted to balance my professional Reiki practice with offering energy to those who couldn't pay. And I wanted to also just have more opportunities to use this powerful gift to make the world better.


Usually, volunteering is about giving. Giving to others, offering your time, etc. But I found out that it's also about receiving. Here are some of the gifts I received as a result of volunteering:

• Watching people who were suffering from anxiety relax and smile
• Hearing people tell me that their pain went from a "10" to a "1"
• Hugs and thank you - more times than I could count
• Inspiring many of my students to volunteer also
• Setting an example for my children, who are proud of me
• Knowing that I'm doing something worthwhile, meaningful and powerful with my life
• Increased confidence that Reiki is there, every time

So, as it happens, the act of volunteering has given gifts to me also - equally if not even more than any effort on my part.

And so I am grateful for the gifts, and for the opportunity to share what I've learned with you also.

May we receive and acknowledge many gifts this season, and all year long.

Blessings.