I’ve been very quiet on this site over the past few months and it’s not just because I’ve been busy with writing or travelling or recovering from one bug or another. It’s because I’ve been stopping myself from saying what I’m about to write.
I’ve been a hospice volunteer for 16 and a half years. That’s a long time – and I proudly tell people about it at every opportunity I get. When I tell someone at hospice (usually a family member who asks how long I’ve been there) that I’ve been volunteering this long, they are always amazed – not at how wonderful I am (though of course I am – hahaha!) but at what a good place the hospice must be to have such dedicated volunteers. I suspect those readers of this blog who are volunteers have had the same experience.
But – and here’s the but I’ve not been writing about – increasingly I’ve come to question what my role at the hospice really is. As I’ve written before, one of the reasons I chose to volunteer in the residence was because I wanted to be part of a team. As an introvert and a writer (they do often go together I find!), I spend a lot of time alone. And I felt reassured that I would be working with a community of volunteers and staff to care for residents and their families.
In the early years, that is exactly how it felt. I still remember my Monday morning shifts. My “buddy” Alex and I would arrive at 9 for our shift and invariably one of the staff would say something like, “Oh it’s Monday – I knew it would be a good day because you two would be on with me!” And I felt instantly appreciated. Often I’d get a hug when I arrived, and a thank you hug as I left to start the rest of my day.
Very often now, when I arrive, no one says hello. I sit with the volunteer I’m relieving and we do our report. She’s always happy to see me, so in that way I feel welcomed. But more often than not, a staff member will come into the room while we’re doing report and tell us of a lunch order, or someone who needs juice, or a task that needs doing. I’ve developed a self-protective habit of not going to do anything until I have familiarized myself with who is in the residence and what their needs and abilities are. And because as I’ve aged over the years (how did that happen?) I can’t remember the food orders as easily, so I will ask the staff member to write it down for me or to wait until I’ve done with what I’m doing.
Many weeks now, I find myself caught up in cooking, cleaning, emptying and loading the dishwasher, and find that at the end of my shift I haven’t had time to sit with a single patient. I might have talked briefly with a family member while I’m making someone’s lunch, but I haven’t really had time to engage in a “real” conversation or to let them know that I am really there for them, that that’s the most important thing I can be doing.
I recognize that once the “pioneering” days are over, institutions can become more routinized, with tasks being divided up in a silo manner, with each role having a specific set of tasks, and very little sharing of tasks happening between people. So, getting juice or ice water or tea or food are all tasks of the volunteer – even if that volunteer happens to be sitting with a dying person or talking to a distraught family member.
To me that seems like we’ve somehow lots a sense of real role and value of hospice volunteers. We are not (or shouldn’t be) unpaid personal support workers or cooks or cleaners – though I don’t think any of those tasks is somehow “beneath” me. I believe we are at hospice to support dying people and their families. We bring a wealth of experience – at work and in life – that can serve the people who come to our hospice. I don’t want to feel like I’m somehow slacking off if I spend a little extra time talking to a volunteer or to a family member. And at times, I’ve felt that some staff see my “merely” sitting as just that – wasting time.
Over the years, and especially lately, other volunteers have shared these concerns with me. Being an old-timer, I’m not afraid to share our concerns with the volunteer coordinator or other senior administrative staff. Though I’ve found a sympathetic ear, I’ve never seen any real change happen. And it leaves me, frankly, discouraged.
I still tell others what an amazing place the hospice is. I write and publish work that advocates for the expansion of hospice and palliative care services. But this nagging feeling remains. So I’m writing this today because I don’t want to remain silent any more. Perhaps some of you can offer guidance, ideas, or advice. I look forward to hearing from you. And I feel better for having finally written this!
Hi Katherine – I really would encourage you to share this with your volunteer supervisor at the hospice. If you were one of my volunteers, I would want to know!
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Alas I have, Alana. And though she seems sympathetic, nothing happens.
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That was great advice Alana. It’s nice to know that there are people like you out there that TRULY care about their volunteers and not just give lip service to the concept. Keep up the great work.
People who wear their hearts on their sleeves can easily have their hearts broken.
I love the saying, “People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.”
I too, like Katherine had very nice people as managers. I really liked them, personality wise. However they would listen sympathetically and say, “Be patient, things will get better.” But alas, nothing changed over a 3 year period. My spirit was near broken. I even considered quitting because of the stress.
Then a change of leadership came and “magically” the situation was resolved in a matter of a week. Go figure.
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Hi Katherine,
Thank you for sharing how you’ve been feeling about your work at hospice. I am a nurse at a hospice in Ontario and work with an amazing team of both paid staff and volunteers. There are a few things I want to say to you in response to your post. I can’t speak for anyone else but I truly appreciate every one of our volunteers more than they will ever know. Our volunteers have their own roles (silos of a sort), but the best shifts by far are the shifts where there is overlap. I am talking about the shifts where each team member pitches in and works together, where there isn’t even a hint of “not my job” attitude, and where each team member feels appreciated and respected but also invaluable. In my ideal shift, I make a point of allowing everyone the time to prepare for a shift, communicating key points about residents to our volunteers, offering to help if the volunteers are getting overwhelmed and I have a spare moment and saying thank you for both the things you do as volunteers on a task by task basis but also for doing what you do. I often give and get a chorus of hellos, and greetings, questions, smiles and even hugs as I arrive. But I’m not perfect. I am horrible with names for some reason. Sometimes I am so run off my feet that I barely have time to think, let alone be my usual self. (I am blessed in that most of our volunteers know my usual demeanour, so know this is an anomaly.) Sometimes I am wrapped up in my own issues and world outside of hospice that I am trying not to show to residents and family, but feel safe taking off my mask once away from them for a moment. Sometimes I have four call bells, someone actively dying, an admission and supper orders to take and I’m my haste and desperation to find someone to help, I have to interrupt another task, or come across as abrupt rather than my usual self. And as much as it shames me to say it, sometimes I simply forget to say thank you, or even please.
But please know this from me. I am not strong enough or giving enough of myself to do what you do. I love my work more than I can articulate, but I know myself well enough to know I could not sign up for a shift every week, unpaid, and just give of myself at this point in my life. I value each and every one of our volunteers and the time, and care they give to not just or residents, but to us. We could not run our hospice without them and they are, simply, amazing… each and every one.
I know this post was not just about your relationship with staff but also your time with residents and your response from your co-ordinator, and for those I cannot speak. But as someone who works with the incredible volunteers we have every shift, I want you to know that even when we don’t tell you, when we come across brusquely, when we seem like we are not valuing your prep time, we truly do value and appreciate every thing that you do.
So thank you, with everything I have, thank you….. Rachael
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I apologize for typos, I am not so great using my phone typing 😉 R.
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You did just fine. And thank you for your beautiful message!!!
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Rachael, For some reason my responses seem to show up randomly and not right beneath the message I’m replying to! I have re-read your message several time and I just might have to find a way to print it out, it is so beautiful! I really appreciate what you’d said and the feeling that went behind it and the time you put into it!!! I have visited many hospices in Ontario and I sense that especially in smaller places/rural locations, there is more of a team feeling and a sense of “all in this together.” I’m stubborn as well as dedicated and I feel in so many ways that I belong at the residence (as a volunteer!) – I know so many of the other volunteers (receptionists, day hospice people too) and it’s always so great for me to see them each week. We’ll see what if anything comes out of my message on the “home front”! Thank you again. And happy Canada Day!
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Thank you, Katherine, for expressing the frustrations so beautifully. I hope you provoke some change.
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Thank you so much. I hope so too!
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Thank you so much for voicing this, Katherine. I’m always happy to chat over tea, as I have lots of thoughts on this too.
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Hi Katherine
I can’t believe it. Your posting was as if I had posted my story !!! Not just the theme, but even some of the smallest of details of your story are identical to mine.
I have been volunteering at our hospice for 8 years and I love it.
However for the last 3 years we have become more of an institution (government bureaucracies) and less of a homey place. I have gone through some of the VERY SAME frustrations that you have.
In fact I came home after one shift this year and seriously considered quitting. I was super stressed and after 3 long years of the same problem occurring again and again, there seemed to be no resolution.
After a good rest and some soul searching, I went back to my next shift a week later. One thing I have discovered over the years, you can quit a job, a career, even a vocation. But you cannot quit on a calling.
Now the good news: During the last 3 months I have been working towards a solution. Fortunately in my case I have found that solution. My mind, heart and soul are at peace now.
I have never lost my passion for my role as a hospice resident support volunteer. But now, thankfully, I have my JOY back. My story is way too long to share here, but if you are interested Katherine, you know how to reach me. – Michael
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Thanks Michael. And given how many people are seeing my post it might be really helpful to share how and why it’s resolved!!!
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Actually I should not have said “I found a solution.” In fact a solution “found me”. We had a change in management and my situation was resolved almost immediately. Now I can do what I love to do – resident support. I can manage very well managing only one psychological stressor.
Being a senior citizen and having had a major operation, I could not handle the workload and stress associated with having to perform two roles – resident support and perform the kitchen duties simultaneously on the same shift.
I could not handle two stressors at once. After 3 years of trying to do so, I almost quit because of a near-burnout situation. Now things are great! My joy and love of helping people flows freely.
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I’m glad it’s worked out for you, Michael! Sounds like an excellent solution.
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Hi Katherine, I can only imagine how painful this post was for you. What do we do when we see the entity we love so much, morph into something we don’t recognize anymore? What do we do when the place that has seen the very best of us has moved on? Do we struggle to fit in while aching for the way things were or do we also, move on?
I’ve seen so many hospice volunteers and staff struggle to come to grips with the mainstreaming of the program. Some put their heads down and searched for the small joys among the more corporate-like atmosphere. Some became vocal and they advocated, moving into a different role. Some just quit and went elsewhere, but whatever path they chose, each one felt the chasm from the original mission widening. New volunteers didn’t get it, they weren’t there from the beginning. So, these experienced volunteers carried a hole in their hearts. There are no easy answers here. I wish for you, the understanding that you have touched the lives of so many people, not only through your direct volunteering, but through the sharing of your stories and feelings. You have incredible gifts to give and more than anything, I wish for you a continued voice and light in our community, no matter what path you take.
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Thank you very much for your wise words. Sometimes one feels all alone in one’s struggles. It is reassuring in a way to know that one is not alone with their concerns. You have helped me in this way.
As they say, “Change is inevitable, except of course from vending machines.”
With the heavy hand of government as we move from homey hospices to official institutions I hope that we don’t ever lose the love and kindness that brought us this far.
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Meridian, I thought I had replied to your message but perhaps I didn’t. I have read your message over and over and, if I could figure out how to print it, I would! You describe exactly how I am feeling, and the nature of my dilemma. Alas, some people have taken my message as a criticism of them – the very last thing I was hoping to accomplish! I will keep your words close to my heart as I find my way forward.
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Katherine you said in your initial posting “Perhaps some of you can offer guidance, ideas, or advice. I look forward to hearing from you.”
I have read and re-read your posting and I would like to offer you some input without seeming to be trying to tell you what to do. For privacy reasons (mine, yours and our hospices) I would prefer to send it to you by email. Is that ok?
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I’m glad it worked out for you, Michael. I regret that I gave up; I simply couldn’t balance the resident support and the kitchen duties.
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Edie, if you have a kind heart (and I believe that you do) then you will help people all of your life.
If this wasn’t the venue for you, then there will be other opportunities.
I don’t like the word “failure”. It has too many negative connotations.
I believe that in life everything is either a success or a learning experience.
You probably have asked yourself the questions below.
What has this experience taught you? About others. About yourself.
How can you use this lesson to help you grow in the direction of becoming the “best you that you can be”?
What other opportunities have unfolded, or could unfold to fulfill your desire to help others?
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Beautifully written. I too have been a volunteer for many years and have noticed a change in the climate of how we are treated by some not all. Thank you for writing this .
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Thank you so much for writing. You can’t imagine how much your message meant to me today! Yes, “some not all” is what I feel too. And more, I feel a shift in the climate and the mission. And that’s what I was trying to convey in hopes of spurring us to talk as a team (staff, volunteers, admin). I’d love to hear more about the work you do (I just read your profile so I know something about you! I was just in Fenelon Falls two weeks ago!)
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Hi, Katherine – Totally get what you’re saying. The feeling of ‘team’ is so important, especially when volunteering in a hospice. I have taken 2 months off from my volunteering to give myself a chance to regroup and to examine why I need the break. Give yourself an opportunity for self-care, whatever that looks like for you. Take care.
Tracey
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As a hospice chaplain who “does nothing but sit” it is funny/sad what you said about staff thinking that sitting with patients is a waste of time! More to the point, deteriorating treatment of volunteers is most likely an indicator of “sickness” in the administration. As so many of the comments above show, a change of administration made all the difference (making it better or making it worse). Thus like any job where you are disrespected, if possible, change” jobs” by working for another hospice. Perhaps this is the time to take a breather from hospice volunteering and do another sort of volunteering before returning to this kind of service. it is sad, but true, that dysfunction in an organization affects even those who should be the very most appreciated, you volunteers.
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Thanks so much for your comment, Karen. I know you know well how meaningful it is to be with dying people. My work at hospice has provided enormous insight and meaning to my life, and that will not be lost.
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Hi Katherine, I hope that you will consider posting updates. There is no right, nor easy path here and the struggle to understand and find a way is instructive for other volunteers who feel similar challenges and to volunteer managers who are also struggling with their own challenges. Believe me, as a volunteer manager, watching the mission move into corporate territory is hard, but experiencing the volunteers’ dismay at losing the caring atmosphere is heartbreaking, Is change inevitable? I suppose, but must change rob us of the wondrous reason we do this work? Ay, there’s the rub.
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Thanks Meridian. I will post something early next week.
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