Saturday 31 August 2013

A funeral visit with a difference that left me smiling



On this particular day I met a young mother of 4 children. She had gone into labour at 23 weeks with her 5th child. The baby had lived for 8 hours. What impressed me was the honesty of the encounter. The day I met the woman, she was raw with emotion. She had a friend with her and they were both visibly upset. I blessed the baby and spent time talking to them both. The woman didn’t have much faith in her partner but knew she could rely on her friends. I told her to contact me if she needed anything further.

The next I heard was from a funeral director, who asked me if I would take the baby’s funeral at the mum’s request. I said I would and so contacted the mum to arrange a time to visit her and plan the funeral.

When I arrived at the house all the other children were present, aged 13, 11, 9 and 2. There was also a friend present with a small child. It was the most interesting funeral visit I have ever done. The children were so naturally honest and inquisitive. I was asked questions like “How will the baby get to heaven if he’s body is burnt?” “Will the baby recognise us when we get to heaven?” “What is heaven really like?” The questions went on and on. In between answering these profound and theological questions I was talking to the mum about what she wanted included in the funeral. The whole family decided on what music and reading to have. When I suggested the children write a letter to their baby brother they seemed really pleased.

When I left the house I had a crowd of kids around me and my motorbike asking me questions like “Do I live in a church?” and “Could they have a ride on my bike?” I don’t usually leave funeral visits smiling but I did on that day.

When it came to the funeral all the children had written a letter to their brother and or drawn a picture.

The day of the funeral came. At the beginning of the service the mum broke down and started to weep. The oldest child went and got my colleague from the mortuary, who had also been working closely with the family, and brought him down to sit with her mum. I was touched by the daughter’s thoughtfulness. When it came to it she then read her letter beautifully. The younger children were overwhelmed by the event and gave me their letters to read out. If I’m normally reading a child’s words I read it through with them first just to make sure I get it right. In this instance I had no preparation. I think I managed to work out the spelling and grammar well enough, but it tested me. Afterwards the letters and drawings were put on the tiny coffin.

After the service, as we gathered around outside, my colleague beckoned me over. The children were asking him questions and he said he needed my help to answer. They wanted to know how all the dead people fitted into heaven and was there still enough room for everyone. The look that exchanged between me and my colleague said it all. He was mightily relived that I seemed more qualified to answer the question. The children seemed satisfied with my answer about not needing our bodies, so not taking up so much space.

I love kids and their directness. They often ask questions that adults would really like to know the answers to if only they were brave enough to ask.

Sunday 18 August 2013

A story of perseverence



I can’t believe that I had already entered into my fourth year of hospital chaplaincy. It doesn’t seem like five minutes ago that I was so new and inexperienced and didn’t even know how to find my way around the hospital.

A patient that I had met in my first year was re-admitted. I met her initially when she was in ICU. I was called because she had been told there was nothing more that could be done for her and she was going to die. It just shows you that it’s not always possible to predict what will happen. Some patients do defy the odds and this woman fell into that category.

This patient amazes me and is a testament to my belief that the human spirit can endure much given the right kind of support. When I first me her she was petrified she was going to die. She was not overly religious but was desperately wanting to cling on to something. She asked me to pray with her. What I ended up doing was an Iona healing anointing which she seemed to take great comfort from. As she physically plateaued and hung between that place of death and life, she emotionally deteriorated and sank into despair and depression. Her world shrunk to the size of her bed. She became obsessed with the times that her drugs were due and what doses she was being given. She had lost any perspective on the outside world. She was extremely demanding of the medical staff and they were at a loss as to how to help her. She was on a ventilator for a long time so communication was difficult, but not impossible. What was  important was that neither side got frustrated in the difficult communication process. As she physically got stronger, her anxiety levels increased. She was afraid of her fragility and that she would end up going backwards.

When she was moved out of ICU and into an ordinary ward her depression was at its height. I started visiting her on a daily basis and every day I would take a positive thought with me, which I would print and stick up on the wall which she spent so much time staring at. Part of her problem was that she was an elegant woman, who had a good job and was always immaculately presented. Because of her illness she no longer had a working bowel and had been fitted with a bag, which unfortunately made awful noises. Due to her not being able to maintain any nutrition her hair fell out. Now she was so physically debilitated that instead of getting up and going to work everyday and being in control of her life, she couldn’t even get out of bed or wash herself. No wonder she was depressed!

After a year of being in the hospital she was transferred to a specialist unit, from which she eventually went home.

I got to know her quite well during that year and admired the way she struggled to make herself eat. I watched and encouraged her as she set goals of sitting up and then getting out of bed and then staying out of bed. Sometimes it was a question of 1 step forward and 2 steps backwards. To me what was important was that I continued to journey with her no matter what direction she was going in.

After she left I had a few updates from the nurses about how she was doing at the other hospital but eventually there was no news.

When I saw her back in our hospital I was keen to see how she was after such a gap. She was remarkable. She had adjusted her life to live within the boundaries she now occupied. She knew she would never work again and would not be able to do long haul travel but that didn’t mean she had nothing to live for. It was great to renew our acquaintance and see how far she had come. 

I fed this back to her and said how well I thought she had done. She was much more serene and philosophical. She told me that she wanted me to do her funeral and that she had told her brother what she wanted. It seems that not even the fear of death had kept its hold over her. Even though she was still enduring horrible physical illnesses, emotionally she was on an even keel. She was back with us for a few months before she went back to the specialist unit and then back home.

It’s stories like this that keep me going in the face of such adversity.