Trust

By: Gabrielle Jimenez

Whenever I see a patient, whether they were just recently diagnosed, are weeks or months into their process, or have a few short hours until last breaths are taken, I am reminded every single time what a true honor it is to care for someone who is nearing the end of their life. The moments I get to spend with a patient and family are personal for me and while it is my job and I am paid to do this work it has never felt like “work” to me. I think that people, like myself, who provide end of life care, feel that it is a calling. For myself, I believe this to be true.

To be invited into the home and asked to sit at the bedside of someone who is dying, feels like a privilege, and I never lose sight of that. It is one of the most private, personal and intimate experiences humans go through, and I honor and respect that each time.

I recently visited a patient who I had seen several times before. I knew at first glance as I walked into her room, that she was dying, and it was going to be very soon. Her family was gathered around her bed, each telling her how much they loved her, their eyes filled with tears. She lay there unresponsive, and I knew she was moments before her last breaths would be taken, but I also knew, or at least it is something I believe, that she was soaking up all that love and holding tightly to every word they were saying, so that she could take them with her when she went.

As I walked further into the room, all of their eyes were on me. They each got up and moved away from the bed to let me come through to sit with her. I could feel them staring at me as I took her hand in mine and whispered in her ear. Her husband asked me what I said. I responded, “I said goodbye. And I told her I was honored to know her, and I wished her a safe and beautiful journey”. As I got up, I held the tears so tightly in my eyes they were stinging.

I walked out of the room and her husband and parents followed me. We gathered in the kitchen and talked about what I assumed would be her last few hours. And while medication would help with breathing and agitation, it was their words and their touch I felt would bring her the most comfort, so I spent most of that time offering them things they could do and say. Knowing that this could be the last time I would see them again, I wanted to thank them for allowing me to be a part of her care and how much it meant to me that they requested me to be at her bedside. Her husband said, “she trusted you.”

When I got in my car, I played those words in my head, and my heart, over and over again. And I realized that while I do feel it is a privilege to be with a dying patient, and I do feel it is an honor, I think what truly fills my heart, is that they trust me. When someone is close to death, their trust in me is what I always hope to achieve. That first moment I take their hand in mine, until the last time I hold it, I make a silent promise to them that I’ve got them, and that I am there for them. I want them to know that it is a privilege to care for them… and that they can trust me to ensure their death is gentle and it is kind. To know that I earned their trust is all that I need.

Have you been called to become a sacred passage end-of-life doula?