Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Life's Last Breath: The Blessings of Hospice

Why would I want to be a hospice volunteer?

By Richard E. Reed
For the Beacon

Why would I want to spend time with, to even think of caring for, a stranger? I have always been afraid of death and dying; I’m even afraid of getting sick. I have enough problems of my own, and I’m still young, sort of, and I have a lot of living to do.

Well, it took me a while to change my mind.

I first become a volunteer at McKenzie-Willamette Hospital after I cut my leg with a chain saw. They fixed me up so beautifully that I had to show some gratitude. I became their part-time mailman, delivering information and packages to every one of the hospital’s departments, even to the emergency room where I had already spent some not-volunteer time.

I soon became accustomed to seeing and being with sick people, and dying people, and babies just born. I realized there was a rhythm to life: being born, living, getting sick and old, and dying.

Most people want to die at home, but too many die in the hospital. I saw empty beds that used to hold sick people with whom I had become acquainted as I walked the corridors and special units; many of them did not check out of the hospital to go home.

Soon I heard about hospice, a program in which dying people could remain in their own beds at home. I began asking around and one thing led to another. I’ve been a hospice volunteer for over five years now and have cared for many wonderful, dying people.

Amazingly, it is the most important, the most rewarding thing I have ever done in my long life. I will continue to be a hospice volunteer until someone else volunteers for me.

Why? Let me tell you about Mr. B. I met Mr. B, in his 80’s, in a small, bare nursing home room with only a leafless myrtle tree and a few sparrows outside the one window to keep him company. He was a loner. He had no family, and he lay dying in the last stages of emphysema and a failing heart. The first time I saw him, Mr. B was lying naked under a sheet, skin and bones, hardly able to breathe.

I was taught in my hospice training that my job as a volunteer was to spend time with the patient for an hour or more, one or two times a week, to ease the strain on the loved-one who was giving care at home, or to offer personal contact and help to a patient in a care facility. The best advice I was ever given, was “to sit down, shut up, and listen.”

I did just that as I sat beside Mr. B’s bed, watching him struggle for breath, wondering if he would be like many of my other hospice clients whom I visited only once or twice, after which they promptly died. As if to answer my thoughts, Mr. B opened one eye, his grizzled beard hiding a lean jaw and blue grey lips. “Who in the hell are you?” he whispered.

I told him, and added that I was there to spend some time with him. He chewed on that for a while, then opened the other bloodshot eye. “What good is that?” he said, closing both eyes.

Over the weeks, I came back and continued being there with him, listening to the oxygen pump keeping him alive, hearing the moaning, the calling out and the crying from the rooms around us, aware of the facility staff passing by in the hallway. Little by little, he began to open his eyes during my visits, and tell me his story.

Mr. B was born in Mississippi; both his parents died when he was still a child. He grew up in an Catholic orphanage where most of the nuns were uninterested, but one nun who played the piano, took an interest in him. From her, he learned not only to play but to love music; he grew passionate about beautiful music and the great classical music traditions of the ages. As a grown man, he never found a real job, never used his love of music to earn a living. He had spent most of his long life being alone, traveling the rails throughout the West as a hobo, looking out of the dusty windows of fleabag hotels when flush, and sleeping under bridges when penniless.

But Mr. B loved music. And I loved music. I would come to the care facility for an hour and stay for two, arguing with him about who was the best German composer of the 19th Century, or which conductor did a better job with Mozart.

After a week or two, he propped up his head on his pillow; soon after, he began to sit up in bed, his birdlike chest heaving with every argument. In a month, I came into his room to find him wearing pajama tops. After another month, I would find him standing, clothed, brushing his teeth when I arrived.

I learned more from Mr. B about music and about being a human being than I learned in all the colleges I had attended and all of the philosophy I had ever read. In the ten months I spent being a friend to Mr. B, I saw his health deteriorate, then rebound. At times, he could hardly lift his head from his pillow, but he often grew more animated as we talked. He began to tell me about his fear of dying and fear of the unknown. We talked about how growing old was not for sissies. Then we would talk about music and argue until he fell asleep.

On December 30, I visited Mr. B. Several care facility and hospice professionals were crowded around his bed. I knew Mr. B was really and truly dying this time. After they left, Mr. B opened that one eye again. “Richard,” he whispered, “talk to me.”

I sat down beside him and held his bony hand. I talked to him about music. I talked to him about living and dying. I sang songs and recited a few halting lines of poetry while he slipped into unconsciousness.

On New Year’s Eve, I called the care facility and talked with the head nurse on duty. Mr. B was resting comfortably, she assured me. I asked her if she would sit with him for a while that night, just to be there with him. She promised me that she would.

On January 2nd of that New Year, one of the social workers at Cascade Hospice called me. Mr. B had passed away on the first morning of the New Year with little pain.

Cascade Hospice, a non-profit organization originally created by Springfield’s own McKenzie-Willamette Hospital, is dedicated to providing medical care and comfort to a patient after his or her doctor has decided that the patient has six or less months to live. Cascade provides a dedicated staff of doctors, nurses, social workers, even massage and bathing specialists for in-home care or nursing home care to ease the distress of the patient and the burden on the patient’s care giving loved one or loving friend.

The telephone number of Cascade Hospice at Cascade Health Solutions is 228-3050. Sacred Heart Medical Center also has a fine hospice program at 461-7550.

Richard Reed: The Art of Aging - Caring for Loved Ones



Caring for the one you love

By Richard E. Reed

For the Beacon

“I take you to be my lifelong partner, to have and hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part.”

Do these words sound familiar? Did you say them at your wedding? Did you think something similar when you decided that this special person is going to be your life partner for ever and ever? Do you still feel this loving commitment to your spouse? Have you committed yourself in an equally meaningful fashion to your aging parents or to a deeply loved friend?

When we make this wonderful, exciting, life changing decision, few of us think of that faraway time when we may not only be the mutually satisfying partner, best friend, or happy child of that loved one, but also his or her full time caregiver.

For every person who can no longer care for himself or herself because of aging, disease, dementia, or the myriads of other end-of-life difficulties, there is usually a caring, giving person who remains, with either the earnest desire or the obligation to care for the loved one who is now in ultimate need.

Fifty-two million people in America currently provide care to an adult partner, friend or family member. Nearly one out of every four households is the center of care giving for someone over age 50; an additional seven million Americans are long-distance caregivers for older relatives.

Are you ready for this life changing, often career ending experience? Is the person who will now be dependent on your daily care, ready to accept his or her new passive role in life?

It is important for all of us to begin thinking and planning for this final most important episode in life. It is necessary for you and your loved one to plan now for all the possibilities and to begin instituting procedures for all of the aging and end-of-life steps each of you will be required to take. Invite your loved one to go with you on this journey of ultimate discovery. You will both learn how to help one another as you grow older, wiser, and more self-reliant entering those final “golden years”.

And, of course, the extraordinary secret of our lives is that we never know until then who the caregiver will be and who will be the one that finally receives the care.

In the next few essays, I will explore with you many helpful hints which can set both of your lives in order, so that you and the one you love will enjoy many happy, healthy, stress-free “golden years” together.

For future essays on The Art of Aging, please see Richard's blog at www.artofaging.blogspot.com

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Exploring Willamalane Adult Activity Center

Have you visited WAAC lately?

By Richard E. Reed
For the Beacon

For new residents or old-timers, The Willamalane Adult Activity Center is the place to begin our exploration of the many “quality of life” treasures in and around our Springfield community. Nestled in the heart of downtown, surrounded by beautiful Island Park and easy parking, this Center has become a mecca of recreation, learning, arts classes and fitness activities always available to friend-finding, fun-seeking and life-loving people in their early 50s to spry 90 year-olds and beyond.



Diane Pergamit, the program manager of this spacious and beautifully designed facility, relates the Center’s success to a creative mix of programs that appeal to people of all ages. “Anyone can pick up our program guide and find something that appeals to their needs; lectures, trips, walking or dancing or discussion groups, literally dozens of social and life-long learning activities right here, right now.”

Entering the welcoming double doors of the Center will give even the most sophisticated big city visitor a feeling of “wow!” Smiling staff and volunteers, a charming coffee shop, big over-stuffed chairs in a comfortable setting look out at the park’s green expanse and the rippling waters of the Willamette River. As we stand in the light-filled entrance, we can hear the soft buzz of conversations and laughter from the billiard parlor, the large dance and activities hall, the ceramics studio, book discussion room, computer learning class, woodworking and lapidary shops. The Center’s participants were all too eager to relate their own varied experiences at this amazing facility.

“I’ve always wanted to learn line dancing,” says Rebecca Hazen, 67 years old and recently retired. “But I never had the time. Our teacher, Iris, goes over the dance steps slowly and carefully. In my class there are over thirty of us, mostly women in their 50s to late 80s, along with some brave men, and we have a ball! We dance to everything from “Little Light of Mine” to country western tunes and Elvis-type rock ‘n roll.”

“I have to exercise every day because of diabetes,” she continues, “and this is the best exercise ever. And with the bike paths right outside the Center, I can bike and walk, too. I tell you, this is the coolest, most wonderful adult center there is.”

Virginia Matteson, 71 years young, is staying that way because of the Center’s Tai Chi and Quqong exercise classes. “I’ve been going to these classes for two years now, and it gives me more strength and better balance. Our teacher makes sure every one participates and has a good time. It helps me to really relax and feel better, and it keeps my body and mind busy.”

Virginia volunteers in the Center’s gift shop; she’s also learning to play billiards and spends time in the ceramics studio. She also walks along the river with her group every week.

Dick Jones, 76, who teaches wood carving at the Center, asked a friend to teach a Thai cooking class at the Center so he could participate. “Now I’m on the Center’s advisory committee and I’m really hooked on all of the vitality and creativity of this place. Why, there are over 400 volunteers at our Center. I just read a study that says people who volunteer live four years longer. I believe it!

Mary Rice, in her 60s, also volunteers, enjoys the craft classes and participates in the day and overnight trips the Center offers. “My mother was a member when the Center started, and now that I’m retired, I can do it, too. I love the pottery and jewelry-making classes. But best of all, I love those trips! I don’t like to drive, and thanks to the Center I have been to the Roseburg History Museum, the Portland Museum of Art and the Carousel Museum in Hood River; I was even on a paddlewheel boat on the Columbia River.”

“There’s something for everyone here,” Mary exclaims. “It gives me a chance to make new friends. It gives me a chance to stay in touch with life!”

Most communities, as well as our own Springfield, are experiencing “The Silver Tsunami”, or the surge of aging America. The number of people 65 and older in 1940 was nine million, in 2000 it was thirty five million, and in 2030 it is projected to be over seventy one million seniors.

Our local divisions of government as well as the Willamalane Adult Activity Center are meeting the challenge and opportunities of this surge in the number of older adults. “We’ve doubled our fitness offerings during the last eight years,” says Diane Pergamit. “We’ve acquired a bigger bus for our day trips and overnight outings. We’re offering daily lunch, van transportation, legal assistance, support groups. We serve 350 or more people on an average day with 15 to 25 different programs each day.”

As I watch the dozens of adults of all ages talking, laughing, playing table tennis or reading in a quiet corner, I realize there are few places I would rather be than this extraordinary community center in any kind of Oregon weather. Thousands of Springfield residents have been coming here for the last twenty years for that very reason. With the continued dedication and imagination of the Willamalane staff and its broad community support, our growing-up children and grandchildren will be coming here too.

Try it. You’ll like it. From 8:30 in the morning ‘till after 8:30 at night, except Sundays. At 215 West “C” Street, Springfield, OR 97477. Telephone: 736-4444. E-mail: netmail@willamalane.org.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

55 & Over: The Art of Aging


Finding a final philosophy

By Richard E. Reed
For the Beacon

Who are you? Why are you here? Have you accomplished anything meaningful, maybe even momentous in your life? Has your time spent on this planet been fully enjoyable and worthwhile for you and for others?

Most of us don’t really think of these ultimate, impossible questions. Yet as you read this essay, you might find value, maybe even comfort, in reflecting on them. Your life can be similar to a great poem; it should have rhythm, meaning, a solid beginning, fulfilling middle and satisfactory ending. To help you think about this, a quote from Anam Cara, a book of Celtic wisdom, may help:

“Poets are people who become utterly dedicated to the threshold where silence and language meet. One of the crucial tasks of the poet’s vocation is to find his (or her) own voice. When you begin to write, you feel you are writing fine poetry; then you read other poets only to find that they have already written similar poems. It takes a long time to sift through the more superficial voices of your own gift in order to enter into the deep signature and tonality of your Otherness. This is a voice within you that no one, maybe even you, has ever heard. Find the true music of your own spirit.”

Professionally, you may not be a poet. But you are an intelligent, curious human being. You are investigating this most curious subject, “The Art of Aging”, so you have the ability to think like the poet does. Reflect on the “deep signature and tonality of your Otherness”. What is that voice within you which no one, not even you, may have ever heard?

Most scientists agree that all matter, all life, is made up of vibrations, music if you wish, the music of your spirit which makes you who, and what, you are. Can you hear it? Can you feel it?
Now that you are older, you have the opportunity to allow the time and your wisdom to experience this “silence of the poet”, that magical place where creativity and self-discovery happen.

Think about it. Take long walks with yourself and explore interior parts of you. Make friends with your hidden potential. Say “hello” to the Otherness in you. Then act on this new information; create a new career for yourself in this fertile, final stage of your life.

This little exercise could transform the rest of your life. Now is the time to re-create yourself and give to the world what is the best within you. You may find that you’re a teacher, a philosopher, a caregiver, a volunteer, a friend, a more happy and fulfilled person. You may even be a wonderful new poet whose powerful voice will create new music for our old, tired, needy world.

For further articles by Richard Reed, visit his blog: www.artofaging.blogspot.com

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Richard Reed - The Art of Aging


Introducing Richard E. Reed

Richard E. Reed has joined the staff of The Springfield Beacon as our new Senior Columnist.

Reed lives on the McKenzie, paints and sculpts in his old horse barn, volunteers for Cascade Hospice, and explores the mysteries of growing older.

In his 75th year, Richard is an accomplished painter, sculptor, playwright (winner of Northwest Playwrights Prize for best three-act play), and performing poet as well as a published author. His books include: The Self-Aware Universe (Tarcher/Putnam), translated in 11 languages and inspiration for the hit movie, “What the Bleep Do We Know?”, How To Create Love In Your Life (Prasad Press), Return To The City (Doubleday), Building The Future From Our Past (Old Town Restorations, Inc.), Soul Songs (Prasad Press), and others.

For further information, visit Richard's blog: www.artofaging.blogspot.com


Yes, You Have A Wonderful Life!


By Richard E. Reed

For The Beacon

By the year 2030, the 65 and older population in the U.S. will be doubled, totaling about 72 million people. Sadly as we near the end of life, even then as well as now, too many of us will be unhappy and resentful because we didn’t, or couldn’t, fulfill our youthful dreams.

Well, think again. Even if we didn’t get that PhD, or earn millions of dollars, or sail around the world, we still did make a difference, a difference we should be proud of and celebrate.

Even as they approach the greatest adventure of all, the end of life, the dear friends that I care for in hospice often relive their lives and bring contentment to their last days by telling me their stories. Remembering their good times helps them, and me, celebrate who they had been and what they had achieved, re-living what it felt like to have a whole life waiting to be experienced and to have done the best they could.

Remember the 1946 Frank Capra movie, “It’s A Wonderful Life”? George Bailey (Jimmy Stewart), feels that his life has been a failure. Then Clarence, an angel, showed George what would have happened to his family, friends, and his little town, Bedford Falls, if George hadn’t existed. It is only then that George understands how worthwhile his life really was. He is finally able to exclaim, “Yes, I really have a wonderful life!"

What is your story? Think about it: the little kindnesses you did, the moments when the best in you came out and changed other peoples’ lives, all the little gifts of love and attention given and received? Even in your darkest days, little candles were lit by you and others around you to prove that you indeed had – and are having – a wonderful life.

Pass this message on, and let me know how you continue to light the darkness in our world.

* * *

“How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.”
-- Shakespeare: Merchant of Venice, Act 5, Scene 1


Think Young, No Matter What Your Age.


By Richard E. Reed

For The Beacon

“How foolish to think one could ever slap the door in the face of age. Much wiser to be polite and gracious and ask him (or her) to lunch in advance.” Noel Coward

“Thinking young” is not pretending to be young. The magic of thinking young is allowing our mind and our emotions to be flexible and daring, always looking for adventure and satisfaction, searching for new things to experience and enjoy. We can all be that kind of person with that kind of mind no matter how old we are.

Aging doesn’t have to be a fearful, isolating, empty process. It can become a time of new discoveries about ourselves and the world around us. It can be a time for new adventures even if the physical adventures of rock climbing and running marathons are beyond our physical abilities.

I learned that I could walk a marathon; in my late 60’s, I entered the U.S. Marine Corps Marathon and participated with all those crew-cut runners, and I still had great fun doing it. Sure, they arrived at the 26.2 mile finish line way ahead of me, but I finished the marathon! Just because our wrinkles are showing and our pace is slowing doesn’t mean we can’t be explorers and adventurers; we can continue to enter the world, whether it’s a walk around the block, a hike in the Cotswold’s, or re-discover our childhood by reading the adventures of Harry Potter.

“Thinking young” is an on-going, active engagement with our personal world every moment of every day. The key is to be constantly aware that every single day, every single precious moment, may be our last. We must continually exercise our emotions, our mind and our life processes with the same daily dedication with which we exercise our body, in order to stay physically healthy and pain-free. Even if we are retired or disabled, we must continue to make friends, join groups, read books, make a strong effort to create within every day an adventure.

What are you doing to “think young”? Let me know and I’ll pass it on to others who would like more suggestions for activities to help them live life to its fullest.