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Posts Tagged ‘mindfulness’

We live in a culture that places a tremendous value on multi-tasking. Books, articles online, in magazines, and in business sections of newspapers extol the virtue of being able to focus on multiple tasks at the same time. This goes well with the “cult of busyness” that seems to have overtaken the Western world. Dare to ask a colleague how they’re doing as they race past you down the hallway, and they’re likely to shake their head and respond, “I’m so busy.” Indeed, busyness seems to be synonymous with “important” in the modern lexicon.

For the most part, these values do not hold sway in a hospice. At the end of life, everything slows down, and staff, volunteers, and family members tend to mirror the pace of each resident’s dying process. As I’ve written on this blog before, this focus on being fully present is one of the aspects I find most beneficial at hospice. I cannot properly be of service to residents and their families if my mind is racing with a million details and tasks.

Nonetheless, sometimes busyness does seem to intrude even in the sacred space of the hospice. I’m not talking about the genuine emergencies which do sometimes occur. I’m referring to the tendency of people sometimes to assume that if you do not appear to be “busy,” you are not actually doing anything and are therefore ready to be interrupted.

A recent hospice shift provides graphic evidence of the perils of interruptions.

Though not all the beds were full that day, there was no shortage of tasks to occupy my time. A bed to be made up, dishes to rinse and put in the dishwasher, lunches to make, coffee to brew. You get the idea.

About three quarters of the way through my shift, a staff member popped into the volunteer room where I was writing notes in the volunteer communication book. “Room 4 is ready for you to take her order.”

I quickly made my way to Room 4, where I found a woman wrapped in a quilt, sitting at ease in a large Lazy-boy chair.

“I hear you’d like some food!” I began, perching on the edge of her bed.

Immediately the bed alarm began screeching, alerted to movement by my weight.

“Oops,” I said, jumping up and pressed the reset button on the alarm. “What would you like?”

“What do you have?”

“Well, it looks like you had chicken shepherd’s pie the other day. Would you like that again?”

“No, I had that yesterday. What else do you have?”

“I could make you an egg salad sandwich.”

“With dressing?”

“Of course! White bread?”

“Yes, just one slice.”

“Coming right up,” I said, happy to have arrived at an item that appealed to her.

En route to the kitchen, a staff member called out, “The family in room 2 needs a tour.”

“Sure,” I said. “Right after I finish this.”

The kitchen was a busy place when I entered. A family member was heating up some stew for his lunch. “Do you have something I can store the rest of this in?”

“Why don’t you heat it up in this bowl and save the rest in the original container?” I suggested. “And I just made some fresh coffee if you’re interested.” I reached into the drawer to grab him a cup.

When another family member joined us, I offered her a cup of tea, pointing out the range of choices Tim Horton’s has generously donated to us.

“OK,” I counseled myself, “time to make Mary’s lunch.”

I checked the freezer for a small container of shepherd’s pie, removed the lid and popped it in the microwave. I had a nagging feeling there was something else she wanted, but carrots were the only thing that popped into my mind and I knew she’d rejected that.

When the microwave beeped, I took out the bubbling container and transferred it to a bowl. I added the cup of very weak tea she’d ordered (“Just put the bag in and take it right out again!”) and placed it on the tray. I felt proud of my ability to focus on the task at hand in the midst of competing demands!

When I presented the tray to Mary, she looked at me with horror.

“I asked for an egg salad sandwich,” she said.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I did that. I am so sorry.” I kept repeating that over and over again. “I’ve never done that in my life. I am so dumb.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she commanded, hoping for an end to my litany of self-judgment.  “Just make me an egg salad sandwich.”

To make sure I wouldn’t forget her order again, I wrote “egg s. 1 w. bread” on my palm.

When I returned with her order a few minutes later, she gave me a look of approval. I waited until she’d taken her first bite and pronounced it “just what I wanted,” before heading off to my next assignment.

I’d like to think I’ll never make that mistake again but I know there’s a good chance I will (though not the very same one, I hope!).  I know that we are all subject to information overload. I hope I will remember to  ask someone if they are busy before I interrupt them. And I hope that my colleagues at hospice will do the same. That way perhaps we can all remain in the moment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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