In hospice, the family is your patient. They’re truly living their darkest days. For many of them, this admissions meeting is an overwhelming process. Every emotion that they have inside of them that maybe even hasn’t ever surfaced might come to the top. But I don’t want families to cry.
During that first meeting I don’t say: “So this is what we do for people who are dying.” I say: “Hospice is not about dying. It is about living the remainder of your life how you want to. Not how I want you to, not how your husband, wife, daughters, or sons want you to, and not how the doctor wants you to, but how you want to.”
If you think about the last time you went to the doctor, he probably said, “Okay, this is what I think. These are the tests I want to run.” Nobody asks you, “What do you think? Does this sound reasonable? Do you want to do it?” Nobody tells patients how their quality of life is going to go down the toilet when they get chemo. So it’s sometimes hard for patients to wrap their head around the idea that everything is their choice now, they’re driving the ship. That’s the mission of hospice.