“It must be hard to stay balanced when you are standing on the edge of a cliff…” 

 

This was a well intentioned (and poorly delivered) phrase provided by a physician to one of our clients at the time of her new advanced stage cancer diagnosis.  In my time at Altamount Hospice, I have learned that standing on the edge of a cliff,  can also provide an amazing view of all that is around. It does not have to be a scary place, and it is always helpful to have someone with you – even if just to hold your hand while you take in the view.

 

When faced with the knowledge of a life limiting illness, people often will react in a predictable fashion. They will experience the many shades and stages of grief. When living with a life limiting illness, people also often will surprise you. It is a unique and sacred time that the typical daily bullshit and inconsequential minutia simply melt away from consciousness. When focused on the simple things that matter most to them – it is amazing how people can make such quick and impressive psychologic and emotional progress.

 

For those of us blessed to be in the presence of these life warriors, we are allowed to bear witness to the revelation of those things that are both universally and individually important.  It is remarkable when someone takes advantage of this self knowledge, and really spends their days living the best way they can.  I suspect it is a function of the environment and clientele, but at Altamount everyone seemed to be doing this – clients, their families, and the staff.

 

In normalizing the certain process of death, we have the ability to provide an amazing gift to our loved ones who remain behind us. We can provide them a model of what bravery looks like in the setting of an uncertain transition. As we move from this world to the next, from life to death, we do not know what we may encounter. But if we have faith in something, a peaceful awareness of what is, and a gratitude for what has been, then we can create and leave and impressive legacy for those who will inevitably and ultimately follow.

 

I can hardly believe that it has been over eight months since I began to learn how to breathe from these amazing souls. Now once again full of inspiration, I stand hopeful and looking forward toward my path ahead. I will begin my medical clerkships in the coming weeks, with new vigor and perspective for what it means to truly care for my patients.

 

It is my final night on the island, and we celebrated my experience at the weekly group dinner. It was a glorious sunset that provided the backdrop to what I consider my most memorable night ever. Holding to tradition, I made my way around the large table and thanked each person there with a big hug and a reflection on something they had taught me during my time.

 

It took me over an hour to make my way around to everyone. At the end of the dinner there was a toast.  A “bon voyage” to all those who would be headed out on the next tide. For the first time I would be one of them.

 

As I complete my current adventure and embark on this next stage of life, I feel an unfamiliar calm and an unusual confidence. In the past, this is where anxiety would take over.  This whole trip has granted me a lesson that I would have otherwise likely never known given my past.

 

If these amazing people could have such grace and strength in their own process of life, death, and rebirth – then I would have missed the point if I did not similarly approach my own transitions in this way.

 

Tonight, I do not die, but rather I am reborn into a different form. I will forever be affected by this place as I carry forward these lessons of faith, love, and hope. These are tools that will allow me to be a successful man and physician some day.