6:17pm, pacific standard time, hotel in Palm Desert, California, USA, Thursday evening, January 26, 2023. Today is my nephew’s 31st birthday. That’s significant because twenty years ago, when I turned 31, we lived close to his family in Valencia. In between jobs, I spent afternoons hanging out with him, doing homework, shooting hoops, and shuttling him to various activities. I look back fondly on those weeks. It was a rare opportunity, before full adulthood, to be carefree and spend quality time with a relative I might otherwise not have known. It was also that age, when shortly thereafter, I took the Utah hospice chaplain job. I consider that period the happiest of my life. Realizing he is now the same age brings back good memories. He’s been through a rough couple of years lately. For the occasion of his birthday, I hope he finds his “Utah” soon. And gets to enjoy a little happiness in his life as well.
Tag: hospice
The hi-desert
7:05pm, pacific standard time, hotel in Palm Desert, California, USA, Thursday night, December 29,2022. Made a trip to the “hi-desert” this morning. That is the area in San Bernardino county where Joshua Tree National Park is located. I needed to get paperwork signed for two nurses and rather than have them come to the office I agreed to meet them up there. My motives were twofold; to get their signatures and to see the area. The hospice has patients up there and I was curious to see what it was like. The drive took 45 minutes and was enjoyable. The weather was much cooler and it had just rained. I don’t get out of the office very often so it was nice to have some time to relax and just be.
Updates
6:08pm, pacific standard time, apartment in Chandler, Arizona, USA, Tuesday evening, May 31, 2022. Had a call with a recruiter today but I don’t expect much to come of it. Not really an area I want to live or a company I want to work for. Also had some recruiters reach out for different positions. One was a bit different, somewhat tied to hospice and post-acute care, but indirectly. Might be a better choice for me right now.
Almost a chaplain again
4:58pm, in my apartment, Chandler, Arizona, Sunday afternoon, December 05, 2021. My phone pinged when I got back from an afternoon walk. The on-call nurse asked me to give her a call. A patient’s family requested a chaplain visit and she couldn’t get a hold of anyone. I told her to give the chaplains time to respond and if neither did I would see the patient. One of them called back just as I was heading out. I was almost a hospice chaplain again.
Disappointed and frustrated
6:41pm, in my apartment, Chandler, Arizona, evening of Thursday, December 2, 2021. Work was long today. One of our nurses had a personal issue to address. She is a hard worker and compassionate soul dealing with a tough situation. Another nurse begrudgingly offered to cover some triage time for her. This nurse is the opposite of the first nurse. She is not compassionate in the least and surly. An admission came in that needed to be covered. The second nurse refused to do the admission then said she wouldn’t cover the shift at all. Simply because we asked her to do the admission. Not only did she let down the organization and a coworker but a patient and family in need (the patient was coming out of the hospital with a new cancer diagnosis) my clinical director is working with staff at the community where the patient resides to make sure she is alright for tonight but the experience has left me (and my team) disappointed and frustrated. I am addressing the issue with Human Resources tomorrow but for tonight I will just be upset.
Thursday morning
5:29am I got up this morning feeling tired. I put on my clothes and took a walk. As I walked under dim streetlights I asked a question; What would I think if I were dropped into this life with no pretext? I am a hospice director in Phoenix with my family living in California. Would I be surprised by the job? Disappointed I am not with my family? I imagine myself creative. A writer, actor, musician. why do I not do that as my “job?” I have a wife and a daughter. Aren’t I lonely being apart from them?
Wednesday morning
5:39am What did I do? I use this blog to share how I felt. It is a journal then. But what did I do? Who did I interact with? Yesterday I got to work a little late. The two girls who work down the hall were laughing. I made a cup of coffee and went through my emails. There was no call in the morning because we had our bi-weekly meeting where the staff come in to go over patients. The meeting started at 9am and got over with around 10am. After the meeting I met with the nurses to go over new assignments and update on our hiring process. At 10:30am I got on a group call for the communities on the west side then had my call with the supervisor. The call went well. Afterwards we got two referrals. I felt better. Getting referrals and admitting patients is how we stay in business. Around ten pm last night the admitting nurse sent me a text saying she did not admit the patient. I am frustrated. We are not a good hospice. We are not helpful or easy to work with. We do not provide value. We are like the beggars on the freeway exit, asking for consideration out of pity. I talked with my lead clinical nurse. She is always apprehensive to admit patients. Our approach does not work and our business is failing. I am not proud that this site is a reflection of me as a leader.
Writing
9:36am We are getting ready to leave for the activity center. It should be a fun time. Right now I am thinking about the creative pursuit of writing and what I do for work. I have come up with a new perspective. In the summer of 2002, well before my daughter was born, my wife and I moved to Valencia, California from Evanston, Wyoming. My wife kept her corporate position but I quit my job as a religious consultant for the state of Wyoming. We moved so I could be an actor and my wife could be closer to family. It was a rash adventurous decision we made as newlyweds who were sure we could conquer the world. The move was not free of tension. My wife was supportive but skeptical. While she looked forward to spending time with her sisters she wasn’t sure of my new plan for work. But I was confident. I envisioned myself auditioning for parts and easily getting jobs to pay my share of the bills. As soon as I got to California I began submitting headshots. I auditioned for some student films and got some parts but not nothing else. By the fall I realized I had neither the drive nor the talent to be a successful actor. I wasn’t terribly heartbroken. I tried and it didn’t work out. I accepted the failure but was left with a creative void. I needed to find a new pursuit. 3:09pm hanging out at the activity center, picking up where I left off. I decided I was going to be a writer. It wasn’t too much of a reach. Starting years earlier in seminary I had written some stories and started a novel. In fact I had just finished an autobiography of my youth titled “The Journey and the Destination.” In the moment I was happy. Writing was my new identity. This is noteworthy because it was during what I consider the most vibrant period of my life i.e. the time I was a hospice chaplain. In reality being a hospice chaplain was not my career choice. It was the job I did to support myself while I wrote. I loved being a chaplain. I cherish the time but I identified as a writer more than a chaplain. Just saying that reduces my anxiety. It changes how I approach work and purpose. For so long I have viewed my situation as facing a choice between sales/operations or being a chaplain. In reality I am facing a choice between sales/operations and writing. I know who I am, what I want to be. I want to be a writer. I am a writer. I simply realize I can’t expect writing to produce sustainable income. So the question I ask is, “What do I want to do to support myself while I write?”
Monastery mornings
7:05am I checked the Salt Lake Tribune and noticed there was a new book coming out called “Monastery Mornings: My Unusual Boyhood Among the Saints and Monks.” The Author is Michael O’Brien. An attorney in Salt Lake City. The book is about his trips to Holy Trinity Abbey in Huntsville, Utah. I have written about the monastery before. (Side note: I need to start adding tags to posts) I often visited the monastery with my mother and on my own when I was a hospice chaplain in Utah. It closed four years. I still cry realizing I can’t go to the chapel and sit in contemplation.
Still play?
8:49am in my office. The referral from last night fell through. I am jaded. I knew something would go wrong. The patient had been put on palliative care with another hospice and the family chose to go with them. We went from an immediate need imminently dying patient to the admission being put off. Now it is gone altogether. Frustrating. Another set back in an already rough month. The question I have been pondering all morning is how long to still play the game? I think about the scenario of being a chaplain and my wife cutting hair. Find a small town, build a quiet life. Live simple. Her work is just as stressful. She does marketing for a pest control company. We both are beholden to numbers and financial results. Should we stop playing the game or keep going?
mikemeyer949 