House Call

This morning the hospice doctor called Mom's cell phone and asked if he could come visit her. She said yes and he said he would be over in thirty minutes or so. This brought about a flurry of activity as I was still in my jammies, waiting for Mom to have her morning nap so I could shower and dress. For her part, Mom had been sitting rebelliously in a dirty diaper, only telling me after the phone call. I wheeled her back for a change that was more of an invasive scraping due to the ripening that had occurred, then Mom wanted me to change her gown and her sheets as well. And brush her teeth! Happily, I was also able to dress myself before the doctor's arrival.

This particular doctor is so good with Mom. And she loves him. How much does Mom love him? When she realized he would be arriving during "El Rushbo," she hardly gave it a second thought. How about that? I first met him when he did the hospital pedi checks for each of our babies. He has a good name as a pro-life doctor in the community. Dad knew him and his wife years ago, when our church helped start another church south county. When I was going through Dad's papers, I found some notecards about church leadership and a list of names including our hospice doctor. I gave those to him today.

Anyway, the good doctor came in the front door and pulled up a chair next to mom at the window. He talked with her, listened to her, checked her out a bit. After feeling around on Mom's abdomen, he discarded his previous liver theory and said he thinks it is a tumor from her colon or small intestine. He thinks the little nodules are metastasized lymph nodes. The Big Evil, confirmed.

Mom asked her now-standard unanswerable questions: What happens next? How long will this take? How will I go? The doctor talked to her about keeping comfortable and spending her energy on things she enjoys. He explained that even a twinge of pain uses energy in our response. He cautioned Mom about being a "martyr" or "stoic" or even just "tough" concerning pain and encouraged her to use pain medication when needed. Mom said, "You mean that medicine?" "Yes," he said, "that medicine."

Before he left, the doctor asked Mom if he could pray with her. He teasingly asked if he could pray for healing and Mom screeched, "No!" Then the hospice doctor prayed a sweet prayer over Mom. It was a lovely house call. We could not ask for a better doctor/patient relationship. I am thankful.