The office called to see if I could take on a night shift. I took down the info and was delighted to find it was client A. H. I had not seen her in a while. At the same time, I was concerned. When I went for shifts with her, it was four hours. The fact she switched to 24 hours care meant it was likely not good.

I arrived at work, I approached to greet her and stopped, shocked into silence. One look at her and I knew she was dying. I tried not to show the shock on my face and greeted her.

She could barely catch her breath and had the oxygen tube on her. The last time I saw her, she was walking still, albeit slowly with the aid of a walker. I brought her to the dining room. She was still eating very well, smiling and talking in her usual manner, quiet and dry and unfailingly nice. It was a pleasure coming back each time. Except this time she was so sick.

Her day caregiver told me she suddenly got sick. I could not get over my shock, and felt pained she was so sick. The day caregiver left. I had just hurt my back and prayed she would not need to move at night, she had catheter on.

Alas, at 3 am she needed to change her briefs. She was so weak she was dead weight. I managed to get her changed with great difficulty but was not able to place her right on the bed.

Gentle A. knew I was not able to do it and pressed her button for help. “A, I am sorry, I am sorry,” I kept telling her as she lay there in discomfort and I was not able to get her comfortable. As always, she suffered without a single complain, always with peace and equanimity of spirit. Help finally came, with the help of the caregiver, we got her positioned right. That night, I watched her closely through the night, afraid she might die that night. She lasted around a month more. I was sad to hear of her passing yet glad her sufferings had ended. She was one client I will always remember.