Three Bites

Carolyn was one of three hospice residents who came to speak to us during our volunteer caregiver training.  She was small-boned, clear-eyed, and wore a white felt hat which looked elegant on her delicate head.  I was surprised to learn that she had been staying at a homeless shelter when her cancer returned.  She spoke to us of wanting to live, and told us how much she appreciated the hospice volunteers who talked with her at Laguna Honda.

On my first afternoon shift I was glad to see her in her bed and smiled and waved to her as I walked by.  She wore headphones and was watching TV, the white felt hat hugging her head.  She didn’t respond to my greeting.

In the shift change meeting one of the morning volunteers said Carolyn had told her that the volunteers from our training were approaching her as if we knew her.  Carolyn didn’t feel comfortable about that.  Much as I was eager to get to know Carolyn, every time I approached her bed she gestured to me to stay away.

There were a few volunteers she allowed to get close to her.  Janice was one of those I thought of as the privileged few. 

As the weeks passed, Carolyn seemed thinner.  Then she began to keep the curtains around her bed closed.  One Friday at shift change meeting Janice reported that she had spent the entire morning with Carolyn.  Carolyn didn’t want to be alone, even though she was going in and out of sleep.  Janice had to leave and said she would ask Carolyn if I could sit with her.  Later, Janice told me that Carolyn had agreed that I could stop by.

When I entered her curtained area, Carolyn was asleep, her hands holding her headphones, the TV on.  I sat on the chair near her bed, found a comfortable position, and breathed with Carolyn.  Eventually she opened her eyes. 

“Hello, I’m Tova,” I said.

“From the training?” she asked.

I said “Yes,” and she held up her slender hand.  I took it in mine, and Carolyn smiled.  All the distance of the previous weeks dissolved.  She thanked me for coming and withdrew her hand.  Carolyn put on her headphones and lay back on her pillow, her face peaceful.  I stayed with her until I had to go to the shift change meeting.  When I told her I had to leave she asked, “Will you feed me dinner?” 

“Yes, I’ll be back,” I replied.

I returned later with Carolyn’s tray.  There was a large portion of cheese strata with broccoli in it.  Carolyn indicated that she wanted the broccoli and I speared a small bite of broccoli and cheese on a fork and brought it to her mouth.  She chewed it for a long time, then asked for a sip of water. After a while I asked her how she was doing and she showed me she was still chewing.  She seemed to be savoring the food.  Half an hour later, Carolyn had eaten three small bites of broccoli.  She said that was all she wanted.  I removed the tray and said goodbye, closing her curtains carefully, as she instructed.

That dinner was one of Carolyn’s last meals.

- Tova Green