Adrienne had been coming since April. Then, in August, her dawg wrapped its leash around her legs and pulled her over backwards. Her injuries put her in the hospital; she thought she mught come back in November.
Andrea took over until one day Debbie from Vancouver showed up. She had no info about Andrea.
The next week Dawn came. She said Andrea had had an accident and she, Dawn, was just following orders. No one ever told me anything. My texts to both Adrienne & Andrea went unanswered.
Then came Jessica. She was different; she's an artist, a writer, a poet, a performance artist, a nurse for 30 years and has been working with the dying for twelve. She's lived in Grants, New Mexico, got her nursing degree in Mississippi, and is part Taos Puebloan and part Hispanic. She has a grand-daughter.
After taking my vitals, she read me her poems. She just got a YT channel so there'll be more soon.
The Brink
She's reading from Cholla Needles 97, a poetry journal edited by Miriam Sagan (renowned!), published (this year) in Joshua Tree, California.
P.278
"...throwing in the towel..." That's a bit dark for a hospice caregiver. Most of us are trapped in writing of what we know. Working with the dying is draining. She has resilience. Be kind. Be memorable. Have her write of you before...you know.
ReplyDeleteI'm in awe. She's teaching me how to grieve.
DeleteStrong people and voices seem fleeting but also show up at the right times. Usually slightly off-center, sort of peripheral. She seems to be using the right words at the right time. That's good.
DeleteI like it.
ReplyDeleteWe went through a lot of doctors, nurses and caregivers with Justin. The lack of continuity of care is pretty typical.
ReplyDeleteAdrienne and I were starting to get to know each other...to enjoy the visit. I talked with her a couple of times in which she told what happened and then of her hope to return.
DeleteAndrea just disappeared.
Debbie talked as if she'd be back.
Instead, Dawn came.
And now Jessica.