The nuns at Mother Teresa's free hospice take care of these patients day after day. This is their whole life - putting all their energy into serving others. Some of the nuns perform every act with a gentleness, a sense of peace I have a deep respect for. They treat each patient with genuine concern for their wellbeing. Each individual act - brushing their teeth, combing through their hair, feeding them their breakfast, is performed with such attention to detail and with love.
But the nuns are human just like anyone and I can see some of them are getting burnt out. The patients are becoming numbers instead of individual people and taking care of them has become a duty not a privilege. It’s difficult to see but I can’t judge them for this. When you never have a break, when you live where you work it’s easy to become exhausted and drained and you simply aren’t able to care for patients in the way they deserve.
I still have such respect for every one of them, for choosing a life devoted entirely to serving others.
This is one reason I’m especially grateful for the continuous stream of volunteers coming into the free hospice. As volunteers, we’re not here to replace the nuns, but to simply provide them with a helping hand. Hopefully give them some relief so they can be in a better place to care for the patients.
And it’s been a pleasure meeting the other volunteers. They’re from all over the world, from Poland, Spain, US, Mexico, Australia, Ireland and they all chose to dedicate their time to caring for others. Out of everywhere they could go in this world, they chose to come here, to care for these men and women of Kolkata. I can see that they genuinely want to be here in the way they treat the patients, the way they speak about the patients.
And you don’t have to be in the medical field in order to help. By doing their laundry, helping them with meals, washing their dishes, sitting with the women, giving them your undivided attention-this allows the nuns to do what they need to without always being pulled in a million different directions. They can focus on the task at hand, knowing other aspects of the patient’s care are being taken care of. One volunteer is a journalist from Australia. She’s never worked with patients before but was willing to do anything. She was able to spend the entire morning giving each of the women a back massage. She had a wonderful way with them, a wonderful touch. She made the women smile and their eyes, for a short time, didn’t look so tired.
I always want to be mindful of others interactions with patients so I can then incorporate their methods into my own care. There is always something more we can learn about how to better care for our patients, better communicate with them, approach them, help draw them out, help them feel safer and more comfortable with us…
From watching the nuns and other volunteers it’s a wonderful reminder that the smallest things, performed with a great deal of genuine compassion is what makes all the difference sometimes. One nun was helping a patient eat a mango and eating mangos can get very sticky and very messy. After a couple bites, she would always make sure to wipe the patient’s mouth. Another volunteer was with a patient that couldn’t stop crying and she didn’t leave the woman’s side. She left to take care of another patient only after the first patient didn’t need to hold onto her hand so tightly and she was relaxed enough to start talking and laughing with the woman in the bed next to hers.
We can’t make all their pain go away or erase their painful pasts. We can’t take in all the homeless off the streets. But this doesn’t take away from the good we’re still able to do for simply one woman and the respect, love and care we can give each of the patients here at this free hospice.
And how we interact with the patients influences others and creates a ripple effect. Thinking of the number of men and women still in need- it physically hurts. But I choose to focus my energy on what I can do right now in Kolkata. How I can treat this woman in front of me, with undivided attention and warmth.
One woman I’ve been with, she reminds me of Anil, the way her eyes will crinkle when she smiles. But this woman is a little quieter and she doesn’t smile as often. When I first arrive she’ll always bring her palms together, her fingertips to her forehead and gently bow her head and I will always bring my palms together and bow in return. It’s a little tradition I always look forward to and I’ve come to rely on beginning my day this way.
Some of the women will let you know exactly what they want and pat the side of their bed or motion you over with their hand and touch their leg for a massage. This woman likes to sit back and observe everything that’s happening. She loves to motion to others, letting me know what everyone else needs. But she doesn’t ask for anything herself.
Priya’s family left her when they found out she had HIV. She was originally from a rural, outlying village before marrying a man from Kolkata. She grew up uneducated, forced to stay home and take care of all her younger siblings. When her husband left her, she had no family to turn to in Kolkata, no one left from where she grew up and no idea how she would provide for herself so she ended up begging on the streets. She spent her whole life taking care of others, putting others before herself. Now we get a chance to care for her for a change. I can gently give her a bath in the morning and she loves for me to start by washing her hands first, holding them in mine, before I wash her face and the rest of her body. She never asks for one but I will still always give her a back massage and we will always meditate together. She has a difficult time swallowing, so all her medications need to be split and given one at a time and for meals, you need to take your time with her, slowly give her small bites, giving her time to swallow in between. Doing all the small things with great love shows the women you genuinely care.
Being here, it’s a wonderful reminder that it is always a privilege, not a right, to be able to care for any patient.