A Time for Hospice

A Time for Hospice


The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
I had the day off. I treasured my days off. My job, as a nurse working in an assisted living
facility, was extremely busy and stressful. I most often went through an entire shift without
eating or using the restroom. I didn’t have time. I needed time to recharge, even if it was my only
day off in a few weeks. I was still in my nightgown, sitting at the kitchen table, drinking my
coffee and reading the paper. Mom sat across from me sipping her black coffee. I can’t
remember what she was saying to me. She always talked to me while I was reading the paper. I
cannot listen and read at the same time. Mom looked tired. Her beautiful blue eyes had a
weariness in them. I was half listening and half reading. She was sharing her bacon with Simba,
my yellow tabby, probably thinking I didn’t notice. Mom nonchalantly said, “Well, I might as
well tell you because you’re going to find out anyway…” She told me that she had an
appointment with a surgeon that day. I was completely surprised, although, I shouldn’t have
been. She went on to explain that around Christmas time she was wrapping presents, and when
she walked out of her bedroom with a box of gifts, she bumped into the door, and the corner of
the box made a small scratch on her upper left chest, about an inch below her collarbone. Mom
went on to say that it turned into a small bump and it started to grow. Finally, she told me she
was starting to get concerned because the “bump” looked infected, so she went to Med Express
thinking they would give her an antibiotic. The doctor referred her to a general surgeon to
removed what he initially thought was a hematoma. It was February, 2007.
Mom didn’t have any health problems, and the only pills she took were vitamins. She
was healthier than me, so this bump was no big deal. We’ll go to the doctor, he’ll give her an...

Similar Essays