The Hammocks
Guiding one family's final chapter
A finely-tuned transition
Steve Gross and John Hammock
After Tina's last surgery, the voice in her journal shifted seamlessly to John's; Tina could no longer write. So, too, did her care gently shift from hospital to rehab to hospice. After several weeks at Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital, she returned to an altered home — with a ramp for her wheelchair and a living room converted to a bedroom/all purpose space.
"We spent so much time in the living room," remembers Ana. "The experience was sometimes wonderful. For example, mom loved to eat, and she devoured chocolate cake and other sweets. It was also hard, though, especially to see my once-active mom unable to walk. We had to help transfer her in and out of her wheelchair and assist her in the bathroom. For Amy and me, our roles with mom were reversed."
Home-health aides tended to Tina's personal needs; nurses checked on her, made sure her medications were well stocked, and helped the family understand what was happening to her medically. "The nurses were good at knowing what was going on with mom," said Ana, "especially when she slipped into a coma. They could say, 'Relax, this is normal.'"
Norma Smith, RN, the HCDH nurse who visited Tina, remembers a loving family that was open and realistic, as well as a friendly atmosphere. She says many people facing end-of-life decisions resist the idea of hospice, especially when a child is dying, and need more emotional support than the Hammocks did. "Our society is geared toward treatment and cure, so choosing hospice is hard for some people with cancer," Smith explains. "We need to find a new language, and speak less about cure and more about what we can do today to make a life better."
Gross points out that some people think if a disease is incurable, there is nothing more to be done. "There is a world of work to be done! This is precisely the point when hospice steps in, and the decision and timing is finely tuned," he attests. "We want to prepare the patient and family for the privileged moment of saying good-bye, and help them see that they are a gift to one another. It is tremendously enriching work."
Next page: The silence of loss
