My Future, My Calling

My Future, My Calling

A touching experience brings new meaning to the career of a hospice nurse

By Christine Piccitto, LPN

I was about 9 years old when my father told me that my mother was going to have a mastectomy of her right breast because she had breast cancer. At 9 years old, all I could think was that I did not want to have a mother walking around with one breast — my friends would think it was weird.

As the years went by after the mastectomy, my mother seemed to be doing OK. I went with her to the doctor every week or so and would play while she got an injection. At the time it meant nothing to me, but now I know it was chemotherapy.

I finally grew old enough to realize that she had cancer and would not be around forever. Still, I tried to put it out of my mind, thinking things would never change. We would go on trips together and she would teach me to cook and bake and do other things around the house. I did not know it at the time, but she was just getting me ready for the future, knowing that one day she would not be there for me.

We were on our final vacation together in Florida when the cancer struck again and my mother complained of severe back pain. The cancer had come back in her liver and there was no more they could do. She managed to go on for several months, and even hosted my 14th birthday party. She eventually went into the hospital. They say she had great pain, as well as anxiety and restlessness until she died.

For years, all I could remember was what I overheard from the adults about how my mother screamed in pain for my father. And that broke my heart.

A special Birthday Card

On my 30th birthday I received a card, as I always had, from one of my mother's best friends. She is a labor and delivery nurse just as my mother was. I opened it up and found a long letter. I began to read it and got to the second paragraph before I cried as hard as on the day we buried my mother.

This letter contained the information I had craved for the last 16 years. It was the story of my mother's death, up until her last breath. It told me of the compassion her friends (nurses) had for her. How she was given morphine to ease her pain and suffering, and how she had all of her friends around her, holding her hands and being with her until the moment she died. It told me not of the suffering she had or the confusion or anxiety, but of the peace and comfort she was given.

I was only sent this letter after my mother's friend learned I was a hospice nurse. She knew that I was finally ready to hear about what my mother's personal experience was like.

I got into hospice by chance — when I started looking for a part-time position so I could stay home with my two children during the day. My past experience had been in physicians' offices, until I found a newspaper ad for a night position with a hospice company.

When I spoke with my best friend about the job she thought I was crazy. Why would I want to work with dying patients? Wouldn't that be too depressing, with the personal history I had? I thought of these things too, but I wanted to give it a try.

Why Hospice?

During the interview I was asked why I wanted to become a hospice nurse. I said that with all the suffering I had been through I wanted to help others and make a difference.

Eventually I accepted a full-time position on the inpatient hospice unit. I have had the privilege of being at someone's side during their final hours and supporting the family during a very hard time in their lives.

Some people say that I am the "Angel of Death." I don't think of my work that way. I have the opportunity to help someone die with dignity and peace, free of pain and anxiety. Acquaintances also have said they always pictured me as a nurse who brings life into the world. I tell them that I think helping someone leave this world in peace is an absolutely wonderful thing.

I have taken my own personal experiences and used them to help people through hard times, and give them advice on how to handle things. I truly believe it was my mother, who was taken from this world too early in life, that brought me here as a hospice nurse so I could truly understand what happened to her and stop being angry for it.

I am thankful to all who have guided me through this experience — to all the people I work with who give me strength and advice to make the right decisions with patients. To my parents who give me strength every day in their spirits to help me understand life and death. And to my husband and family for their support in my career decisions.

This is my calling, my career, my life — a hospice nurse.

Christine Piccitto is a hospice nurse at Compassionate Care Hospice, Dover, NJ. She lives in Landing, NJ, with her husband and children.