CHAPTER 51 Hospice

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copyright 2017 Chris Smith  All rights reserved.

"You are the sun

and the moon

your soul is my earth."


Somehow it was December. Somehow the year was almost over. Somehow I was still suffocating, even though I got up every day and kept breathing. Somehow I was still living but I didn't feel very alive.

Winter was coming. But I couldn't tell if it was winter in the sky or the kind that settles down into your bones. The one you can't get rid of. The one that never changes no matter what the sky is. You could be standing directly under the sun in the middle of summer and still be cold. I wasn't sure there was a pill strong enough or a knife that could cut deep enough for that type of winter.

Today Hospice was coming to do an initial interview with us at the house and find out what our needs were and what our routine was. Two nurses arrived in the blustering wind and rain of the late morning. We all sat around in the living room/bedroom.

"A lot of people think Hospice means death. Hospice doesn't automatically mean death. It can also mean recovery," the nurse said.

"That's interesting. I thought if you were on Hospice it meant you were dying," I replied.

"Unfortunately it's what a lot of people think. But it's not the reality at all," the nurse said.

They took Mom's vitals and asked us questions.

"And what medication is she taking?"

"Nothing. Only nutritional supplements," Dad replied.

"She's not taking any medication of any kind?" the nurse asked.

"No," Dad said.

"No pain medication?" the nurse asked.

"No," Dad said.

I don't know why everyone was SO surprised we didn't pump her full of meds. Yeah, that's the fucking answer. Pump everyone full of meds. That'll sure fix 'em right up!

Fuck me. Well, if you listened to Western Medicine it was their only answer. Let's not resolve the underlining reason why there is a problem in the first place. We'll pump meds through them to mask all the symptoms of the problem we can't resolve and don't understand. That will then give them side effects, which will need more medication and so on and so forth.

"And what vitamins is she taking?" the nurse asked.

"Well, let me grab her box and show you," Dad said.

He got up from the bed and went into the kitchen to grab her pill box. He brought the box back to the bed and handed it over to them.

"All of these?" the nurse asked.

"Yes," Dad said.

The box held about thirty or so nutritional supplement bottles. Of those, Mom took anywhere from one to four pills from each bottle every day. Every pill or drop of nutrition she put into her body was muscle tested by the Doc first. It took the guess work right out of not only what nutritional supplements she needed to help support issues and her healing. But what the dosage of each was as well.

All the nutritional supplements we took, came from companies who manufactured quality products that routinely muscle tested positive for people. There were so many companies out in the market who did not produce healthy products, even popular brands.

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