
Hope Springs Eternal
By Rebecca Spencer McCurdy
I checked this morning, and the daffodils have started peeking through the dirt in the flower bed in front of my house. Aren’t perennials great? I always feel so happy when I see those daffodils that I don’t deserve at all, showing up once again after a seemingly endless winter.
In the midst of a long, hard winter, it can be easy to make decisions that you will regret when springtime finally returns. Decisions like, “I think I’ll move to Costa Rica,” or “Maybe I’ll quit the job that I love just to avoid the drive on slippery roads.”
The truth is, it would be a shame to let those few bad snow days keep us away from the things we love. That’s where hope comes into the picture. It’s important to remember that the daffodils will replace the ice and snow in due course… that spring will come again when you are in the midst of winter.
Hope is a key component of supporting someone who is coping with a diagnosis of terminal disease. Hospice work includes both a clear-eyed honesty about what patients are facing, and a hope-nurturing sense that if we do a good job managing pain and symptoms and loneliness, today can be a really good day.
Kate Bowler, author of Everything Happens for a Reason and Other Lies I’ve Loved, who has herself been given a terminal diagnosis, and survived it, offers her readers the inside scoop on what they should absolutely never say to someone experiencing terrible times.
1)"Well, at least…” Whoa. Hold up there. Were you about to make a comparison? At least it’s not… what? Stage 5 cancer? Don’t minimize.
2)“When my aunt had cancer…” My darling dear, I know you are trying to relate to me. Now you see me and you are reminded that terrible things have happened in the world. But guess what. That is where I live, in the valley of the shadow of death. Right now I’m on vacation because I’m not in the hospital or dealing with my mess. Do I have to take my sunglasses off and join you in the saddest journey down memory lane, or do you mind if I finish my mojito?
3)“It’s going to get better. I promise.” Well, Fairy Godmother, that’s going to be a tough row to hoe when things go badly.
These three things you should “absolutely never say” are examples of the misuse of hope. Minimizing, telling an old sad story, and promising things we can’t deliver on are destructive of hope, not constructive of hope.
But there are hopeful things we have to offer someone on the journey of terminal illness.
1) We can offer them our continued support. Many times a person on this journey has had friends and family members disappear on them. Making it perfectly clear that we don’t intend to cut and run can be a very hope-inducing thing. It is said that “abandonment” is one of the top things persons with a terminal illness fear most. In his book How We Die, Dr. Sherwin B. Nuland describes his grief in not being able to offer his brother the promise of cure from his terminal disease, only to discover that what his brother really hoped for was that Dr. Nuland would be with him until the end.
2) The flip side of the “abandonment” coin, is the fear of being a burden. If we can, with complete honesty assure the person facing terminal illness that it is our choice to be with them; that we are not visiting them out of a sense of obligation, but because we genuinely care about them and want to be a part of their support, then that too, can assuage their fears and buttress their hope.
3) The #1 thing individuals facing terminal illness often say they fear is the pain of the dying process. The promise hospice offers its patients, and that we who love them can also offer, is “I won’t be satisfied with your pain control until you are satisfied with it.” The little bit of empowerment inherent in that promise can be tremendously hope-inducing. This is the promise of our advocacy. This is the promise that when they no longer have the strength to insist on the doctor’s attention to their needs, they can rely on us to do the insisting for them.
In addition to these fairly universal hope constructers, there are also the very individual hope builders… the things each of us hope for in the very marrow of our bones. In order to engender hope in these things in another person, we must train ourselves to listen with great attention and generosity and allow those we love to tell us what their hope is… and then work to help them see that hope realized in whatever ways we can.