Within the first few weeks of moving out to this small town, I became acquainted with some of the 'frequent flyers' at the medical centre. Not the drug addicts, not the hypertensives or the hypochondriacs, but the elderly; a wonderful group of people whose bodies were slowly shutting down after many years of life.
I really enjoy my consults with the elderly, not because they're interesting or particularly challenging, but because I feel like they appreciate me the most. Sure people are grateful when you print their prescriptions or listen to their coughs, but the elderly just love to chat, and love to listen. Every single consultation, I am always asked where I am from and how I am liking the town and at the end of every consultation, they always tell me the same thing: "Good luck, I know you will be an amazing doctor". Not because I have changed their lives or had a profound impact on their health, but because they genuinely want to pass on their well wishes, and they are ultimately grateful that someone sat there for 20 minutes and just conversed with them. Too often the elderly are dismissed.
Unfortunately today though, I lost a friend, a little old lady who I had seen on a fortnightly basis for management of her multiple chronic conditions.
Each consultation with her was the same; we would say our hellos, we would speak about how cold it was and how she wished the flowers would come back. We would chat about how she was doing, if there was any change, if she needed anything. I would print her scripts and fiddle with her Warfarin dose and she would ask me how my study was going, how my week had been, if I was sleeping, if I had been to see my girlfriend or how my family was.
She didn't know any of them, she would never know them, but she was polite, and interested, and caring.
I met her daughter though, and her son, both had been to visit her and bring her in for her check up at one stage or another. She had grandchildren, 3 of them who she adored more than anything.
Her husband had passed away many years before, but she still grieved over him. She would tell me how she lost her best friend, how they had driven around Australia, how they went to the beach for their honeymoon because they couldn't afford anything else at the time.
Each consultation I would find out a little more about her, and each consultation I felt privileged that she felt comfortable enough to share that information with me, to trust me.
This lady had lived life to the fullest, but despite her best intentions, her body just could not keep up. At her most recent check up, we had spoken about how she did not want to be resuscitated when it happened, that she wanted to go peacefully. She knew it was getting close.
Today I had a phone call that she was up at the hospital and today, she passed away after a long battle with chronic illnesses.
I managed to see her before she went though. I was able to see her cheery face that still smiled despite the situation. I was able to talk to her about how warm it was and how beautiful the flowers were looking. I was able to say thank you for everything that she had done for me and I was able to be there to comfort and reassure her, like she had reassured me during my first few weeks.
Sitting there with her was difficult, but I am incredibly grateful to have spent that time with her. She was a wonderful lady who had made peace with the world, and who was finally ready to see her husband again.
