Dealing with Terminal Illness

When I arrived home last night I noticed that Paddy dog had managed to remove the ears from his toy bunny. Before I left he’d dislodged the eyes and tore out the whiskers. Before long, he’ll snag the tail and tear out the fluff and we’ll buy another toy. When we first purchased the toy bunny it looked like this lop-eared sweetie, adorable.

The bunny reminded me of what every caregiver needs, A Large Set of ears. Listening ears. Not the Paddy dog ears that wiggle back and forth waiting to get in his bark between sentences and certainly not my kind of ears, they only heard half of what husband said because I was busy forming my opinion. Every caregiver needs to grow big ears that hear all of what the care-receiver says and eyes that see what the CR isn’t expressing.

For the caregiver, friends and family dealing with a terminal illness, listening without responding is crucial. While waiting to board my flight from Eugene to San Francisco, I met Patty. In only a few minutes of conversation I learned she was flying to see her dying father. I shared the following tips with her—maybe you know someone that might need them also.

Listen well. Allow the care-receiver (your father) and your family to express all their feelings. Some things said might hurt, try not to interrupt. Allow time to process what is said, even years, maybe someday you’ll understand their feelings.

Realize not all the family will think the same. Forgive them in advance, especially if they push their ideas on you.

Dredge up every positive memory possible. Share them as family around the care-receivers bed whether they are awake or not. (My friend Laura wrote out her wishes before she became comatose. She requested that her family talk to her and each other like she was still with them.)

Journal. Sometimes we cannot express our feelings to our family, write them down. In years to come you won’t remember what happened, but your journal will remind you of how you survived.

Read the book of Psalms to the Care-receiver and the caregiver, ask your family to help read.

Laugh. Loss is inevitable, and will happen to all of us. Laughter eases tension.

Cry. Tears are healing.