Discover Top Posts Tagged with #derek overfield

Derek Overfield

Derek Overfield - Man with Infant (2011)

Only two patients in the unit today, I think someone died early this morning. They were cleaning up the room. Nobody I interacted with today, except for Ida the nurse, seemed to speak English. I went into the first room with Mrs. Tu*. Her husband was there, dressed in a suit. “Good morning, I’m a volunteer. Would you like me to read?” I pointed to the book, to my badge, smiled gently. I was unclear if he understood me, and he responded in Chinese. He smiled back, put his hands in his pockets, looked at his wife in the bed, pointed to the book, and smiled again. So I started reading. I said hello to Mrs. Tu, even though she seemed nearly unconscious. It feels like one small slice of dignity, addressing the patients as themselves. Mr. Tu stood around, not quite sure what to do with his body. He paced as I read, shuffled from one foot to the other. When she coughed or moaned, he inched closer to her, but clearly didn’t have anything to do to help. I hoped my reading was at least a distraction. For her, for him — I’m not quite sure. After 10-12 poems, I decided to leave. She seemed slightly more agitated, her moaning more persistent. As I got up to go and before I walked out the door, Mr. Tu came over, in his suit jacket and tie, put both hands on my shoulders, said something in Chinese, then kissed me multiple times on the cheek. I am still reeling from this moment. Later, while I was reading to Mrs. Aritza in a room down the hall, I saw Mr. Tu had followed and was waiting silently outside the room, listening. * All names changed. Art by Derek Overfield.

#notes on hospice #derek overfield