Do you ever doubt yourself? Wonder if the massage you provided really helped?

I just completed a massage for a lovely lady. We’ll call her Jessica. She’s on hospice care; 87 years old. Primary diagnosis Alzheimer’s disease, but also suffers from COPD.  Oxygen dependent.

 

The notes on the referral form: Patient is withdrawn, non-verbal. Can call out when caregiver provides incontinent care, never has for nurse. Totally bed bound.

 

As I enter the room, I see the patient in her hospital bed. She’s uncovered wearing a shirt and adult brief. Her legs are crossed at the ankle and her hands and arms are resting on her abdomen. I notice slight edema in her legs and feet. Her eyes are closed. Her face is turned away from me, toward the window.

 

As I approach, I notice a slight grimace on her face. I don’t believe she’s in pain, but likely uncomfortable.

 

I tenderly, but with good volume, introduce myself and my purpose. “I’m here to put some lotion on your skin. Does that sound ok?” Her eyes open slightly, and close again almost immediately.

 

I start soft music and proceed to massage Jessica’s hands and arms using lotion. I straighten the oxygen canula which has dropped out of her nostrils. I stroke her brow, brush the hair out of her face and gently massage occipitals, neck and left shoulder – the only one I could reach.

 

As I work, Jessica straightens herself in the bed and stretches her back. The grimace softens.

 

I spend about 30 minutes with her. I thank her for allowing me to see her today and told her I hoped the massage helped her feel a little better. No response.

 

I wash my hands, speak to the care home manager, and leave.

 

As I drive, I wonder… did that make a difference? Was she even aware I was there? Is the service I just provided worthy of the $ the hospice agency is paying me?

 

When I get home, I discuss it with my husband… I’m totally doubting myself.  As usual, he listens to my story with a smile and nod without judgement or advice. He lets me think out loud.

 

The following day I make follow-up calls to the caregivers. I speak to Jessica’s daughter to report the visit. Before I get many words out, she enthusiastically thanks me for providing the massage for her mom and is overjoyed by how much it helped.

 

She saw her mom via facetime following the massage and her mom spoke (even if it was just sounds) for the first time in years and the grimace was gone. She is certain that the massage helped her relax and brought comfort and peace. She thanked me again and again.