Amputee Outruns Hospice Marathons (“World Champion" Poem)

Skoney, a diabetic amputee who was also mute and partially blind, epitomized “down, but not out.” My hospice volunteer experiences with him at the nursing home inspired me to write “World Champion,” a poem about his long-distance death journey. Although Skoney endured several close calls with death, he repeatedly overcame them until he eventually died one day. Observers couldn’t understand why he didn't give up sooner. Didn’t he know that death would make him free? Because he had no legs and was such a determined survivor, I viewed him as an Olympic marathon runner.

                 World Champion

                 Your bedridden body

                 wins survival marathons,

                 breaks records in life's

                 Olympic Games.

                 I touch your skeletal chest,

                 feel spirit of an aging heart

                 that outruns the Grim Reaper

                 in back-to-back wins.

                Some pity your amputated legs,

                anguished moans, unexpected

                comebacks when death

                competes with bare existence.

                No one claps or cheers

                for your personal-best pace

                toward the final race

                when you clear each hurdle.

               They don't understand

               why you won't give up

               when you defend each challenge

               to clock more blocks of time.

               Your laps for life press onward

               as you struggle to the finish,

               grin like a world champion

               each time you grab the gold.

               © Frances Shani Parker

Frances Shani Parker, Author

Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes is available in paperback and e-book editions in America and other countries at online and offline booksellers.
Hospice and Nursing Homes Blog

Caregiver–Patient Poem: Hospice, Dementia Aha! Moment with Music

Caregivers who embrace patient care with win-win expectations know that aha moments can come at any time. Meaningful conversations and feelings drift into a now/here place that helps us worm our way from the unknown to the known. Aha moments are not forced or always joyous and explosive occasions. Many times they are subtle, quiet with a settled satisfaction that brings whispered gifts of personal knowing about life lessons. One reason some people assume hospice work is depressing is that our aha moments with patients are not shared enough with people who are unaware of powerful scenarios we experience sometimes.

Recall a few of the aha moments you have known, especially those that made you better people. Many of you have had them. Share these enlightenments with others who wonder why you do this work or those who express a general interest in what your work entails. Aha moments can enhance lives of patients and caregivers.

This poem describes one of my favorite aha moments as a hospice volunteer. I had a very challenging patient whose name was Katherine. She usually lay in bed sleeping or looking up at the ceiling. I couldn’t tell if she was bored, unhappy, mellow, or all three. Rarely speaking, she never sat up on her own or walked. We mostly stared at each other while I talked.

Knowing that Katherine had been active in her Baptist church in the South at one time, I decided to use my CD player with headphones (this was before iPods, etc.) to help her enjoy music sung by Mahalia Jackson, whom many hail as the greatest gospel singer ever. After reading this poem, you’ll understand why it’s one of my favorite aha moments and why I still smile every time I read it. Share your aha moments with others, and you’ll be smiling, too.

Sounds of Ecstasy

Headphones frame your head.

You look at me, your volunteer,

wonder what they can be.

Mahalia Jackson’s song erupts,

“When the saints go marching in...”

Sleepy eyes widen like popped corn.

“It’s a CD player,” I say.

Your mental video rewinds

through time from the nursing home

to an Alabama church service

where bodies rock to music.

I join you clapping with the choir.

Your stiffened hands move

with a powerful energy that rises

like a resurrected hot flash.

“It’s wonderful,” you whisper.

Mahalia responds singing,

“Walk all over God’s heaven...”

I picture you joking with Death

when it’s your time to holy dance

to the Other Side of Through.

Mesmerized by the music,

you soak in every song.

A CD player exhilarates you

with sounds of ecstasy.

Such an easy thing for me

to bring, but before I leave,

you say you love me twice.

© Frances Shani Parker from Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes

Frances Shani Parker, Author

Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes is available in paperback at many booksellers in America and other countries and also in e-book form at Amazon and Barnes and Noble booksellers.

Hospice and Nursing Homes Blog

Diabetic, Hospice Amputee Outruns Death: “World Champion” Poem

Skoney, a diabetic amputee who was also mute and partially blind, epitomized “down, but not out.” My hospice volunteer experiences with him at the nursing home inspired me to write “World Champion,” a poem about his long-distance death journey. Although Skoney endured several close calls with death, he repeatedly overcame them until he eventually died one day. Observers couldn’t understand why he didn't give up sooner. Didn’t he know that death would make him free? Because he had no legs and was such a determined survivor, I viewed him as an Olympic marathon runner.

World Champion

Your bedridden body

wins survival marathons,

breaks records in life's

Olympic Games.

I touch your skeletal chest,

feel spirit of an aging heart

that outruns the Grim Reaper

in back-to-back wins.

Some pity your amputated legs,

anguished moans, unexpected

comebacks when death

competes with bare existence.

No one claps or cheers

for your personal-best pace

toward the final race

when you clear each hurdle.

They don't understand

why you won't give up

when you defend each challenge

to clock more blocks of time.

Your laps for life press onward

as you struggle to the finish,

grin like a World Champion

each time you grab the gold.

© Frances Shani Parker

Frances Shani Parker, Author

Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes is available in paperback at many booksellers in America and other countries and in e-book editions at Amazon and Barnes and Noble booksellers.

Hospice and Nursing Homes Blog