I’m sorry, I just have to let this out because I don’t want anyone to see me like this.
I’m sad. Not numb, not depressed. Sad.
I’m scared and worried.
I knew what I was getting myself into, but it was still unexpected.
I do hospice visits.
I’ve been visiting a pleasant older lady for a little less than a year now.
I was supposed to visit her today, and so I went.
I ring her buzzer. No answer.
I phone her, no answer.
I give it a few minutes.
I can’t get up to her suite without a FOB.
So I just stand there, pretending to have lost my FOB when someone walks in, I follow.
I go up to her room. I knock and try to open the door. It’s always left open because it’s hard for her get up each time someone comes to the door to open it.
I knock again. No answer.
I call her with my ear pressed against the door in attempts to hear if maybe she’s on the phone or if the phone rings.
Phone rings, but no answer.
I’m scared. I noticed an EMS parked outside. I didn’t dare to think that it was for her.
I go downstairs, I ask the security if he has seen her leave the building.
He answer with an answer I feared for.
It was just her birthday on Monday. I called her, she said she was having tea with some friends, and said that she’ll see me on Wednesday. She was supposed to have a birthday party on Saturday. I was supposed to attend.
But that’s gone.
She was such a pleasant lady to visit. Full of life and stories.
Experiences and kindness.
Her niece was booked to visit her in August. She was so excited. We talked about the different things that she can do with her. We talked about the different places there is to visit within 2-hours drive.
She told me stories.
She supported me through my search for a job and to settle down.
She shared her stories of work.
I didn’t think that this day would come.
I guess it lasted longer than it was supposed to, but not long enough.
The moment the security told me that she was taken by EMS just 30 minutes prior set tears in my eyes.
She said she was doing okay.
But I guess we’re never really okay.