girl in greenwood

I just read this terrific post over at All & Sundry about her experience watching her brother-in-law, a funeral director, embalm and prepare a body. It's pretty graphic, so if you're squeamish, you may not want to read it. But if you're a nurse/nursing student/other non-squeamish individual, it's fascinating.

Labels: end of life

Booshka was a remarkable cat. He was extraordinarly in tune with his people and valued the time he spent with us. R* and I both firmly believe that he lived as long as he did because he loved being with us so much.

R* got Babooshka in 1988 in Washington DC. R* was much younger then and actually bought a black kitten at a pet shop as an accessory for the outfit that he was wearing to go out clubbing that night. The next morning, R*'s roommate J* awakened him by announcing "Your cat just shit on my rug." R* said, "What cat?!" not remembering that he'd bought a kitten the night before. That kitten was Booshka, named after a Kate Bush song. (Although he kind of stopped answering to Babooshka and liked Booshkaboo better.) After that rather casual meeting, R* and Booshka were inseperable for the next 18 years. R* took Booshka to several different apartments, even asking his friend Z* to keep Booshka safe in her bedroom when R* was between permanent places to live.

Fittingly for the cat of a musician, Booshka enjoyed music a lot. He would even tap his tail to jazz music (specifically jazz music). R* and I had the thought that Boo was a reincarnated old jazz cat like Thelonius Monk. Can't you just imagine him with a beret and hipster glasses, if he were a human? When R* rehearsed on his guitar in the living room, Booshka would sit near him or even under his stool and close his eyes and listen. His favorite CD was Jazz, My Romance by Ron Carter. It's a mellow acoustic jazz record, just bass, guitar, and piano. We played it for him during his last couple days at home and he snoozed on the couch and listened.

In 1997, I moved in with R* and Booshka and Kadydid. Booshka took his time warming up to me, but eventually decided that I was The Girl and was nearly as good a human as R*. He turned to me for butt scratching, for feeding and watering, for playing with the string, and for sleeping on my feet. As time went by, he decided that my lap was just about as good as R*'s. And best of all, I bought The Brush and started using it on Booshka. He could hardly believe that he had gone 8 years without a brush in his life!

After R* and I got married, we moved into a house for the first time in Booshka's life. He was thrilled with having more space, and stairs, and more privacy in the litterbox, and hardwood floors for better mousie-chasing, and a backyard in which to enjoy the sun and chomp grass. Plus he'd never experienced forced-air heat before, and would spend every winter parked in a cat bed (aka the kitty bucket) in front of a heating vent with his nose millimeters from the grate, purring while the warm air blew on his face.

The most amazing thing about Booshkaboo was that he really listened to his people. He would almost always come when called, or at least meow to let us know where he was. He understood "no" and "get down" and "come here" and "sit down" and actually complied with those instructions. Not like a dog does tricks, but as though we were really communicating. He also was the emotional barometer in the house - if R* and I were fighting, he would look between us with a worried expression, and if we didn't cool it, he would leave the room. If one of us got angry (like swearing at the computer) he would hide under the bed. One of our friends was over for pizza one night, and Booshka was sniffing at her plate. R* said, "Booshka! That's our guest's food and it's rude to bother her." And Booshka backed off and sat down. She was amazed that Boo seemed to really understand.

In these last few months, Booshka clearly decided to live life to the fullest. He became interested in human food of all kinds after years of ignoring everything we ate. He particularly liked the crumbs from chocolate chip cookies and scones. He licked plates with caesar salad dressing on them, sampled pasta, and closely observed every bite of a burrito I had for lunch one day. His other favorite activity was chomping on R*'s shoelaces - whenever he got a new pair of shoes, Booshka would enthusiastically chomp the laces. Every time a door was left open, Booshka would be in the doorway or tiptoeing outside to sniff and explore and eat grass. Over this past summer he got so enthused about going outside and sampling the local flora that one day he passed out a dandelion. He appraised everyone who came into the house, and if he found them acceptable, would try to coax them to scratch his butt while he ate from his bowl. Our friend A* took it up a notch when she brushed his butt while he ate. PURRRRRRRRRR, he said. Oh, and Boo completely stopped having any respect for his people being otherwise occupied. He pushed textbooks off my lap so he could sit there. He plopped down between us in bed and shoved one or both of us to make enough room for himself. He got up on the table to inspect our interesting human food more closely. It was hilarious to see his personality change - he seemed so much like an elderly human who has decided they don't need to follow society's constraints anymore.

Booshka used up all nine of his lives, and in fact required more medical care than many humans-of-pets might have tolerated. But he was always such a part of the family that we never hesitated to do what was necessary for his health. And it was kind of a lot... [Edited because I'm not sure that anyone really cares about the details of Booshka's illnesses other than me & R*. Short version: Boo had flea allergies, irritable bowel syndrome, benign skin tumors, acid reflux, and insulin-dependent diabetes and we treated all of 'em.]

The last two days he wouldn't eat. He would only drink water, chicken broth, or the juice from canned tuna fish. He had enjoyed food so much his entire life that we were sure this was the end. When we took him to the vet to let him go, she palpated his abdomen and found a mass near his stomach (could've been stomach, pancreas, small insestine...) that was obviously painful. And so it was clear that the right thing to do was let him go peacefully before he suffered any more. It was so hard and so sad, even though it was the compassionate thing to do.

Our friend Em wondered if he'd been reincarnated immediately, or if there was a delay for processing and paperwork. All I can say is that I hope Booshka's next life is a fantastic one, because he sure was a joy in this life.

Labels: Booshka, cats, end of life

Labels: Booshka, cats, end of life

Hospice Lady passed away on Tuesday morning. I'm sad she's gone but happy that she's able to rest now. For privacy reasons I won't link to her obituary, but it was very very sweet and talked about how she spread love everywhere she went, which I saw whenever I cared for her. Goodbye, sweet lady!

Labels: end of life, patients

I worked on Saturday morning. I really didn't want to. I had been up late Friday night, first at J*'s bachelorette party and then at R*'s jazz gig. I considered calling in sick when I got home but didn't. The alarm went off at 5:00, I sat up and felt queasy and considered calling in sick but didn't. I stumbled into the shower, threw on my work clothes, and drove to work. I told myself that I would just go in, get my residents up and ready for breakfast, and if I still felt awful I could go home.

Then I got to work and found out why I needed to be there that day. My sweet lady hospice patient had gone rapidly downhill since I had seen her the week before, and I was her caregiver that day. Her family was on their way from out of town. And Hospice Lady didn't want to be alone. She wasn't speaking but I knew she recognized me when I spoke to her and leaned over to hug her and she put her arm around me to hug me back (she felt so fragile). I sat with her for most of 5 hours, until her family arrived. I held her hands and stroked her forehead and swabbed her mouth and talked to her and gave her spoonfuls of water and massaged her neck. Whenever I got up, she reached out for my hands. She was on oxygen but her breathing was still labored. Her pulse was fast and weak. Her skin was crinkly from dehydration and her fingernails were turning blueish. I asked the other nursing assistants who I knew were fond of her to come see her - and everyone did. All the CNAs and the nurse on duty dropped by and told her they loved her. Her closest friend at the Old People Hotel sent a CNA to tell Hospice Lady she loved her - and even in her state, Hospice Lady nodded to show she understood.

When her family arrived, they obviously wanted some alone time. So I gave them their privacy but dropped by every 30 minutes or so to check in. Before my shift ended, I changed Hospice Lady's brief (she was so dehydrated there wasn't much there) and got her resettled in bed. And then I sat down and told her that I loved her and that it was a privilege to take care of her and that I would be so glad for her when she was able to rest. I told her I would be thinking of her and her family and said goodbye and kissed her cheek.

When I got up to leave the room, her family members thanked me deeply, and hugged me a lot, even though I hadn't met them before today. I talked with them for a little while and told them they would be in my thoughts, and that I was honored to take care of their relative. One of them cried on my shoulder for a minute.

I really felt like a nurse that day. I cared for a patient, I cared for her family, and I held it together emotionally without suppressing all my feelings and becoming a robot. It was a really good experience.

I haven't been back to work since then and don't know for sure if Hospice Lady has passed away. I don't think she could have gone on for more than another day but I don't know for sure. I work tomorrow evening and will find out then.

Labels: end of life, patients