This afternoon I was doing my usual room-to-room music therapy visits at a local rehab/care center.  The AD asked me if I would play "Sweet Hour Of Prayer" for "the lady" in a particular room, because "she is not doing well and would really like to hear it."  As I approached the bed of this thin, frail-looking woman and tried to help her adjust the bed so that she could sit up comfortably, she suddenly looked up and said, "Are you Jeanene?"  I said yes, thinking she had probably known me from another nursing home.  Then she said, "It's me -- Anita ____ ... .   I'm dying of cancer."

My jaw dropped open as I said, "Oh, my, Anita!  I was just thinking about you a day or two ago and wondering how you were doing!"

I had known she had been diagnosed with cancer, over 12 years ago, and while I was relieved to learn she was still alive. I was very saddened to hear how sick she was.  She had lost a lot of weight and I had not recognized her after about 12 years and without her glasses on.

We talked a little, though I soon had to move on to other rooms, and my singing the hymn seemed to comfort her a lot.  Then I sang "His Eye Is On The Sparrow" (my choice) for her nearly deaf roommate -- largely because I figured Anita would appreciate it, even if the roommate could not hear it well.  I gotta tell you, folks, I barely made it through the second verse!  But my friend's eyes lit up when she heard that song, and she said something to the effect that that was one of her favorites.  We were able to reconnect, and I plan to go back and see her "on my own time" later this week.

Afterwards, I was able to talk to the AD about Anita, what a remarkably strong and compassionate and spiritual person she was, how long she had overshot the doctors' "death sentence" of over a decade ago, and how she had told me, even today (just before I left her room) that she wasn't throwing in the towel yet (despite being on "hospice" status).  We talked a little about things the care center could do to at least not work at counter purposes to Anita's desire to visualize healing and focus on the positive.

I tell you this story to illustrate several things:

¥  You never know who you may run into in a convalescent home.  Folks of all ages may be there, short- or long-term, due to illness, injury, hospice needs, etc.  Don't be too surprised if you end up being able to sing for special friends from time to time.
¥  Hearing special hymns, special favorites of any genre, can mean so much to people who are dying, recuperating, or just living long-term in nursing-type residences.  Sometimes you may wonder if your music is appreciated, but just when you begin to question why you are doing this sort of thing, something happens to remind you why.
¥  Singing and playing in "nursing homes" may allow you, by the way you treat the residents, to help remind staff members not to underestimate or write off the patients/residents.  (Not all of them do, of course, but some do.)   You can contribute to the resident's care plan via the connections you establish or already have with them.

Anyway, my work "got to me" today in an especially personal way.

Genie