Lois Bechtle at 10 months old with her mother and three sisters boarding a ship to Pasto, Colombia.

In May 1941 at just 10 months old, Lois Bechtle arrived in a little town called Pasto in the Andes Mountains of Colombia. Her mother, Katherine, known as Señora Catalina, had returned alone with her four children from New Jersey to continue her late husband, Lester Morgan’s missionary work. He had pioneered five churches in Colombia, but had fallen gravely ill, which caused the family to return to New Jersey where he died four months after Lois’s birth.

“My mother is my heroine,” Lois said. “It took tremendous courage to go back to Colombia, against great opposition from her family.”

In a bustling five-bedroom home, Lois grew up learning Spanish as her first language. The house served as a clinic and counsel for the sick, poor and mentally disturbed. As a child, Lois assisted her mother in medical and dental procedures. She pulled medical instruments out of a bag, mixed concoctions and held the patient’s head. Lois and her sisters travelled everywhere their mother was called. They went on horseback deep into the Andes Mountains to care for people in need, or on canoes on the Amazon River into the jungles to to plant new churches.

Señora Catalina, Lois Bechtle’s mother, treating a patient in Colombia.

“I always felt privileged to be a part of her work,” Lois said. “I never saw her question God. She had such enthusiasm. I never saw my mother depressed or discouraged.”

When Lois was eight years old, political turmoil struck when the Colombian president was shot during the revolution. At that time, townspeople gathered in the streets shouting, “exterminate the protestants.” Four hundred people marched in rage shouting, “kill the protestants.” They surrounded Señora Catalina’s home.

“I remember thinking, this is the last day of my life, I’m going to die and I didn’t know if I was going to heaven,” Lois said. “I told my mother ‘I’m not ready to die.’ She asked me if I wanted to pray. As she prayed with me, a sense of peace came over me.”

Her mother, unfazed, walked out onto the balcony and confronted the crowd by unfurling a Colombia flag.

Eventually, the army came to disburse them.  Senora Catalina became a legend in Colombia and America. Harvard scholars studying the Amazon would stay at the house. There was always lively discourse at the dinner table. A teacher from North Carolina came down to teach Lois, her sisters and other American and European children in Pasto. It was then and also on trips back to New Jersey that Lois became acquainted with English and American culture.

Lois recalls being in shock of all the cars and traffic upon arriving in New Jersey. On Sunday mornings, they visited the local churches. Lois and her three sisters would stand in a row in front of a wide audience as their mother shared the stories of her missionary work.

Lois Bechtle, her mother and her sister in Colombia.

“That’s how I learned faith,” Lois said. “Honestly there were days, we didn’t have anything to eat and it would be brought by the people my mother cared for. We had a car that needed to be fixed, and we went to the post office and there was check from America. When cashed in Colombia pesos, it was exactly the amount she needed to get the car fixed and that was how I learned how to trust God. She didn’t push us or tell us what to believe.”

In 1956 at 16 years old, Lois suffered a shot of culture shock when her mother sent her to live with her grandmother in Bloomfield, New Jersey to finish high school. She felt as though she had been dropped down from Mars into a scene from “Happy Days,” the 1950s television show. Lois was out place from head to toe. She would walk to school with the only African American student because they were both so unique in a world that idolized sameness. She gained 40 pounds in the first year living away from her mother and the close-knit life among her sisters in Colombia.

After graduation, Lois attended Houghton College to obtain her nursing degree and then went on to Columbia University in New York City to complete her Bachelor’s Degree in public health nursing. From 1961 to 1963, in the heat of the Kennedy years and the Civil Rights era, Lois encountered vocal, angry students, the Black Panther movement outrage that sparked her to ask why they were so angry. She had not grown up in America with this tangible divide between black and whites, but she had experienced discrimination as a minority in Columbia.

“I was still very naïve, yet I was very strong in my beliefs and principles that turned out to draw a wonderful, special group of friends to me,” she said.

Lois Bechtle, of Hospice Care of the West, as a young nurse.

As a young nurse, she began working for a public health clinic in Spanish Harlem. She recalls recognizing the symptoms of a person with leprosy before anyone in the clinic could figure out what the patient suffered from, as her mother brought treatment for leprosy, tuberculosis and mental health to Colombia.

“I felt in my element. I could speak to the patients and it was very clear to me I had found where I had value,” Lois said. Around that time she began to ask God for the man she would marry.

“I prayed for a man who would honor God, a man who was stronger than I am, and that meant he had to be really strong and a man like my father, who I admire,” she said.

Around 1965, she became reacquainted with Sam Bechtle, the son of her mother’s dear friend in New Jersey. Sam knew of the legendary Katherine and her daughters from the presentations her mother would make at his church. At the time, Sam was a mechanical engineer and he spent his weekends in youth ministry helping out poor children and driving them by bus to church on Sunday. Some of the children called him Dad. Lois and he shared so much in common that she just knew this was the man she had been praying for.

On April 15, 1966, they married and honeymooned in Puerto Rico. Upon their return, she moved to New Jersey and they bought a house. For two years, they tried to have a baby. She yearned to be a mother.

“Infertility was an extremely painful experience,” Lois said. “The doctor finally told me due to some earlier ovarian issues not to even try that it would never happen.”

Lois and Sam started the process of adoption. They were told it would take five years. In a miraculous turn of events, four months after they filed the paperwork, Jonathan was born. They picked him up from the hospital on Dec. 10, 1969.

“I took time off of work and just held him and loved him for nine months without stopping,” she said.

Lois and Sam Bechtle on their wedding day.

Three months into her time off, Lois became pregnant. The birth of Helen was an absolute miracle. Shortly after, they were blessed with another miracle when Katherine was born. The family moved to Chicago and then Sam received a job in Puerto Rico for Abbott Laboratory. In Puerto Rico, Lois started a Bible study and then a church for the group of expatriates living in their village.

“Those were good years, we all came from different backgrounds but found a commonality in the word of God,” she said. “We also loved playing tennis, going to the beach, travelling and enjoying family life.”

After Puerto Rico, the family moved to Mission Viejo where the children grew up and attended public school. Lois taught them to stand up for what they believe in. She supported their sports, drama club and watched them in awe grow up to become amazing Godly people.

“I loved being a mother and my husband is an amazing father,” Lois said. “We taught our children serve, to serve to serve and also to be nonconformist, to swim against the stream and to always be the friend who sits next to the new child at school.”

Lois began working again as a per diem nurse in 1978 at Saddleback Hospital. Each year, as a family they served as counselors to abused foster kids at Camp Allendale in Idylwilde. They became so close over the years to one little girl Komisha, who became a part of their family after she turned 18 years old and aged out of the foster system.

At the 40-year anniversary of her mother and father starting the church in Pasto, Lois, her family and her sisters returned to Colombia. The town fathers held a public celebration for Senora Catalina, who they had alienated for many years. They gave her the statue that represented the “Keys to the City”, an honor of accepting her and her missionary work completely. In the ceremony speech, they said, “We couldn’t read the bible, but we saw the bible lived out by you everyday for us.”

Not long after, following the footsteps of her mother’s pioneering spirit, Lois took on a Director of Nursing position at the first hospice, Community Hospice, in Orange County in 1992.

“It was an exciting time,” Lois said. “The folks from Community Hospice in Arizona came here with a passion and vision for hospice that we carried out. At the time, I hired Debbie Robson as one of our hospice nurses.”

Deb was so thrilled to be a part of this new organization; she sent Lois a bouquet of flowers to say, “Thank you.” They served many years together shaping the way hospice was delivered to patients in Orange County until Community Hospice was bought out by VITAS. They went their separate ways until more recently when Lois joined Hospice Care of the West as a Quality Assurance Performance and Improvement Coordinator after retiring for a year in 2009. Today, they work together again here at Hospice Care of the West, where these hospice pioneers of Orange County continue to raise the bar and evolve how we serve our patients in hospice care.

Looking back over her life, Lois feels amazingly blessed. Today, Jonathan is a pastor and father to three girls and one adopted girl, Helen is a journalist and mother to one boy and two girls and Katherine named after Senora Catalina is a nurse and mother to four adopted girls. Lois passes on this wisdom to her three children and 11 grandchildren.

“The legacy that we have received from those who came before us is what I now pass on to my family. God is faithful and trustworthy and he does deserve to have our best.  He is never ever a debtor to any man; he will always bless you if you follow him. He has blessed our family more than we can expect to deserve and I credit that to my parents and their faithfulness to God.”

Thank you Lois, for sharing your life with us that exemplifies faith. It was an honor to interview you and discover your life story. I felt as though I walked back into time to experience a true state of faith.

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Edvin Tejeda, home health aide, at Hospice Care of the West.

When he was just a boy, Edvin Tejeda, a home health aide at Hospice Care of the West, felt a higher calling to care for the whole person both body and spirit. He brings a presence of peace, calm and healing to the bedside of his patients.

He grew up in Quiragua, Guatemala, home to the ancient Mayan culture.  As a little boy, Edwin played in the shadow of these monuments that echoed the ideas, values and achievements of a past civilization. The tangible, yet invisible presence of these ancestors shaped his appreciation for history and wisdom handed down from one generation to the next.

In this lush tropical environment on the Motagua River, he swam and fished. Edwin was the youngest of the four children in his family. His grandparents raised him. Edvin’s father left before he had a chance to get to know him.  Though Edvin never met his own father, he felt an intrinsic connection to God, his father in heaven. At eight years old, his grandparents sent him to church where he discovered through the Bible and the teachings that God was never far away from him. His acceptance of Jesus into his life marked the most memorable of his childhood memories and thus became the inspiration for the man he would become.

At age 13 years old while fishing on the river, he injured his foot. His grandparents rushed him to the medical center in town. As he entered the hospital, Edwin felt instantly awed by the nurses and doctors caring for him and others around him. Edwin knew then, he would one day become a nurse. Not long after, he recalls fishing on the river when he saw a boy fall off a passing boat. He jumped in the river and saved the boy’s life. This would be the first of many.

When I asked Eddvin what his grandfather taught him, he chuckled and said very confidently, “Everything.” He recalls, many days of his youth fishing on the river with his grandfather and helping his grandmother raise chickens in the yard of their home, each activity a source of food for the family.  His grandmother guided him to respect all people, most especially the elderly. She encouraged him to study so that he would not have a life of hard labor.

He studied hard in school and did not succumb to any peer pressure of activities, smoking and drinking that could steer him from his dream of becoming a nurse. If you asked his grandmother back then how she would describe her grandson. She would say, “Edvin is a good boy.”

At 18 years old, Edvin became a nurse. He worked on the pediatric unit in the local hospital.

“It’s very exciting to care for babies just one to two hours after they are born,” he recalled. “It’s the beginning of life.”

One afternoon on the pediatric unit, all of Edwin’s fellow nurses on the floor had gone to lunch. He was the only one on the unit when he heard a father yell, “My son, my son!” Edwin ran over. The eight-month old baby stopped breathing. Edwin immediately administered CPR. He revived the baby. The life that swept out of the baby came back. The father filled with fear was overcome with relief and gratitude. Early in his nursing career, Edwin had become a guardian angel for his patients and their families. It takes a special kind of person to jump into action in a risky situation when everyone around you is in a panic.

Even with all the new beginnings in the hospital, he also encountered many lives coming to an end.  Edvin dealt with a lot of patients suffering from fatal diseases, accidents, and there were times when he would be there at the end with his patients and their families.

“Everyday, before I go to work, I asked God, “If there is somebody who wants to know God, let me feel it,” Edvin said. “I would sense when someone would talk about life and life after death. And I would say, don’t be afraid, Jesus died for you. And then, I would pray and sometimes, they would accept Jesus. And they would have peace at the end.”

While working in the hospital in Guatemala, he met his wife, Linda. She is a nurse too. They both wanted a better life. The city was not so safe back then. The streets were ravaged with crime.

In 2004, he made the leap. Edvin moved out to California where his mother lived. Not long after, Linda joined him. They married.  Soon, Edvin became a father to his baby boy, David.

We have Ana to thank for inspiring Edvin to join us here at Hospice Care of the West three years ago. She told him about hospice. After being raised by his grandparents and spending time as a nurse caring for patients and their families in Guatamla, he felt all the paths and experiences of his life melded together to serve hospice patients.

Edvin is often celebrated here at Celebration. I can recall, Shannon sharing the stories of how he always attends the Veteran pinning ceremonies that honor our veterans for their service in the U.S. Military. Edvin baths his patients and dresses them with honor so they are suited in dignity when pinned and saluted by the Color Guard.

Everyday, he prays for his patients before going to work. And at times, he shares Jesus with them to help easy their soul on the end of life journey.

Some of the folks on the hospice team shared these loving thoughts,

Caroline Chiou, RN, said, “Edvin has such a kind and loving heart. He goes above and beyond for all our patients to ensure they are comfortable. Thank you for your phenomenal care!”

And Jennifer Villegas, said, “He is always kind, responsible, and respectful. I truly appreciate working with Edvin.”

Today, his grandparents would be proud. The wisdom they passed on to him permeates his service to his patients and also to his hospice team.

In hospice, Edvin loves talking with his patients about life. He has learned a lot about many different cultures with different names for God.

When I asked him what wisdom would he like to pass on to his son David., I felt Edvin’s heart open. His voice quickened as if moved by the spirit and eager to pass on his wisdom.

“I never know what day will be my last and everyday when I leave my home, I pray that I return home,” Edvin said. “I want my son to know, I am your friend, I am your father, but the most important relationship you have is with God. And you must respect all people, especially older people. I’ve learned that though they follow a different God, we are the same. And we must respect all people and all cultures.

Take care of your body and your health. And study in school so you won’t have to do hard labor.”

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Julie Voelz, Hospice Care of the West Nurse

On the 10^th anniversary of service as the first nurse at Hospice Care of the West, we are honored to celebrate Julie Voelz. Her journey is a shining example of following your heart and discovering the purpose that God has for your life.

Mark Twain, American author once said and it resonates today as Julie shares her story that: “The two most important days in one’s life is the day you were born and the day you find out why.”

In the late 1950s, Julie was born as the sixth child of eight in Deerborne, Michigan. Her hometown for those of you who don’t know is Henry Ford’s hometown.  Her father worked for Ford Motor Company and her mother was a 1950s housewife. Reared in a bustling Irish Catholic family, Julie experienced a rich unity between family and church life.  Her childhood home was a former covenant for nuns across the street from their church.

The seasons of her childhood were clearly defined by the church fundraising festivals and holiday celebrations of Christmas and Easter. The church bells governed her daily rituals as the ringing of six o’clock ushered in Julie and her siblings from playtime for dinner, which was the same time every day in her home.

“The church was an extension of our home,” Julie reflected.

Dinner was nothing short of a production directed by her mother. Her father arrived home not long before and would sip a martini before dinner was served at the living room table, where the family of 10 sat down together. Prayer and blessings began each meal. At bedtime, Julie’s mother knelt down at the bedside with her children to pray with them before they laid their heads to rest.

“Though my mother had her hands full,” Julie said. “I admire how she kept our family intact. My security as a child was never challenged and that is easy to take for granted.”

Her mother was the spiritual center of gravity for the family. She gave Julie a spiritual foundation and security that remains present today. Julie knew at a young age that life was temporal. She had a fascination with death and the afterlife.  And a strong intuitive understanding of heaven, angels and that there was more to life than what we can see and touch.

Her father had a knack for putting folks at ease and a kindness that could connect with everyone, a quality that lives on in Julie today. He always had a joke or story to share to make those around him laugh.

“My father was a good dad,” Julie said with a note of comfort in her voice. “He loved my mother and he was devoted to providing for his family.”

Julie Voelz, Nurse at Hospice Care of the West, and her family.

Music filled her home as a child. Her mother played the piano and her father played the trumpet together in the evenings and weekends. She shared a room with one of her six sisters. There was never a shortage of someone to play with among her seven siblings, who could make up teams for red light/green light and dodge ball. They all attended the school attached to the church across the street.

“I had built in playmates,” Julie said.

As a child, she yearned for a glamorous life as an airline stewardess. She dreamed of travel and adventure.  Yet the stability of home, church and community anchored Julie. It was a given that she would marry and become a mother.

Her free spirit inspired some rebellious years as a young adult. Though, it was the late 60s and 70s. The entire young adult population rebelled against the norms and values of their parents’ World War II generation.  Being so close to Detroit, Motown music colored her teenaged years, her weekends filled with reveling and parties.

After high school, she obtained her secretarial science degree in college that paved the path to become a secretary at the Ford Motor Company, where her father and sister worked. She and her sister rented an apartment together. And in 1978, she bought her first brand new rust color hot Ford Mustang.

That year, the call of adventure beckoned Julie when a friend invited her to stay with her cousin, a Pacific Southwest Airlines stewardess, based in San Diego, California. It was late February.

“The weather in Michigan was cold, I was ready for a change,” Julie said. “I had never been to California, I’d heard about it. When we arrived it was warm, balmy. We stayed in a apartment that was more like a resort-setting. I kept saying, ‘I’m moving to California.’”

When she arrived back in Michigan, she walked out of the airport into an ice storm. Tears streamed down her face. Her heart burned for California. She had to find a way to go back.

She began searching for Ford plants in California, and eventually Ford Aerospace in Newport Beach, California surfaced. Julie set her internal compass to point west. First, she had to break the news to her parents and family.

“There was resentment from my sisters,” Julie said. “They would say,  ‘You’re never going to move out there.’ The sister I lived with didn’t make it easy for me. There was a sense of abandoning them. I had to do it. I had grown up enmeshed with them. I needed to live without the controlling forces. I needed my own life. It was bitter sweet.”

She received the job with Ford Aerospace. Her father helped Julie map the Route 66 to drive out to California. She planned to move to Irvine, a neighborhood and community that she found on a roommate service.

“I believe it was God’s intervention as the desire was so strong and overwhelmed my heart,” she said. “I wanted a new start and a better place to live.”

Her grandmother died just days before she planned to leave to drive across country in her Ford Mustang, with all her belongings packed inside. She attended the funeral and said her good-byes to the whole family gathered together in grief. It was not easy to see the only life she knew recede in the back windshield of her car that day.

There was no GPS or cell phones. She had a CB radio and her code name was Highway Star.

As she left Michigan, and found herself cruising through the hot desert in the middle of July, a smile crept over her face. She was chasing her California dream on Route 66. She stopped at campgrounds to sleep at night, as she worried about her belongings being stolen. The drive was beautiful. Flowers lined the highway and the stars filled the sky in New Mexico and Arizona. She picked up a young guy with a guitar at a gas station along the way, and eventually got rid of him at one of the rest stops in Arizona. The dramatic ocean cliffs came into view as she entered California.

“God protected me, there was so many things that could have happened to me and my Mustang” she said. “I didn’t have one flat tire or breakdown.”

She arrived in Irvine and immediately dove into her new life.

“Ford Aerospace was a big compound of young, single, fun, nice people,” Julie said. “I was living the good life in park west apartments with barbeques, pools, a clubhouse and tennis courts.”

In the midst of all the fun, she kept seeing a blond guy that attracted her at work and also just around at work social gatherings. On her way biking back to her home from a party in Balboa in Newport, she bumped into this guy again.

“I stopped my bike and said, ‘hey, don’t you work at Ford Aerospace,” she said. They started talking and he showed her where he lived in Newport. That afternoon, they played Frisbee on the beach.

“I remember biking back home that night, smiling, and happy to have met this new guy,” she said. “I pursued it when I saw him at work again, I invited him for a barbeque and we started spending time together. He was so easy to talk to. He cared about me. It was so natural. And it was a loving relationship. He even started attending my Lutheran church with me.”

Julie Voelz, Nurse at Hospice Care of the West, and her husband, Larry.

For a year, they spent time together playing on softball teams, camping, hiking and playing tennis. Until, he received an offer to go to Maryland. When he told Julie of the offer, he asked her to go. She only agreed to go if he wanted to be married. And he did. So, they swiftly prepared a wedding within a couple of months. Julie and Larry Voelz married in their church and celebrated their vows at a reception on a harbor cruise in Newport Beach on her 24^th Birthday. They honeymooned on a trip across the country to Maryland stopping to celebrate with her family in Michigan and his family in Wisconsin.

Julie got pregnant on her honeymoon. Julie and Larry agreed that she would become a stay-at-home mother. Larry was a systems engineer at Ford Aerospace in Research and Development, and later Raytheon. They eventually returned to California, Julie gave birth to her first daughter Jenelle.  She had fun back at home in California, taking her new daughter to the beach and being involved in their church. Four years later, they decided to have another child, Erica, and another four years brought a baby brother, Ryan, for the girls. As a mother, Julie had a newfound respect for her mother and dedication she had for her children.

“We were really involved in our children’s lives from girl scouts to boy scouts, to sports, camping and traveling together,” she said. “Irvine was a great place to raise a family. We could go out at night for a walk to get yogurt, and not worry about anything. It was like Deerborne.”

Once the kids got a little older, she became restless and so she started praying for a new path to surface once more in her life. She found a home health aide program that was intriguing, as she relished caring for the elderly and listening to stories of their past.

“I love the elderly,” she said. “They are really fun to talk to. The home health aide was a good fit for me. But it was very labor intensive. And so I decided to get my LVN.”

In the 1990s, she enrolled in a challenging nursing program at North Regional Occupational Program. Julie studied hard as only half the class graduated each year.

“I put my fears and threats from the staff of not graduating aside and focused on achieving my dream to become a nurse, “ she said. “And I survived, I graduated.”

She started at VITAS hospice and eventually became the first LVN hired by Gina Andres, the first Executive Director, at Hospice Care of the West in August 2004. Julie worked with Lori Stewart, RN, and the home health aides in growing the hospice.

“There were some hiccups along the way, as we were a start-up company, but my work was evolving. I was building my skills as a nurse. Gina did a great job making the company better and bigger. Each person added special gifts, to the program. The employees hired had a heart for hospice, which is key for a successful hospice.  You have to have a good group, everybody from the managers to the home health aides. Lori, Gina and I gave it our all. We really wanted to do the best we could to build the reputation of the hospice and carry it hopefully through to completion.”

Julie witnessed the growth of the company and the different foundation building that each executive director and team member brought to making Hospice Care of the West a premiere company.

“One of the big contributions made by Deb Robson to the evolution of this company is having these Celebrations focused on helping each other, helping the community, so the care is not just aimed around a family in crisis,” Julie said. “God blesses those kinds of companies, not just all about the money but about the service and compassion. We give the best care possible. It’s nice to have a career that I’m proud of. I feel God led me to hospice.”

Looking back over her life, Julie shared this piece of wisdom with her children.

“Trust God in all that you do. Acknowledge him in all ways and allow God to direct your path. I hope you each find your soul mate, and do not compromise your values. Be true to yourselves and live an authentic life. Find your passion and a career that you love to do. And know that I love you. We can always forgive each other and let the love for our family always be a priority in our lives.”

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Dr. Jorge Rivero, Medical Director for Hospice Care of the West.

When Dr. Jorge Rivero was a young medical student in Lima, Peru, his grandfather, Felix, challenged his newly acquired patient care skills.  Felix refused to go to the hospital and obey doctor’s orders to treat his COPD. As a soon-to-be doctor, Jorge took charge of his grandfather’s urgent care at home.

Jorge began spending time at the bedside with his grandfather listening to his life review. Felix relived his days managing farms, crops and animal stock in the country north of Lima. Later in his life, Felix built a successful chili powder factory. Jorge unwittingly gave his grandfather the gift of knowing that his life would live on in his grandson’s memory.

By giving his respect and time to listen, Jorge earned his grandfather’s trust. The result—his grandfather listened to doctor’s orders and allowed Jorge to administer medications to improve his quality of life and keep him comfortable in the end.

“We didn’t learn about end of life care and hospice in medical school,” said Dr. Rivero, the Medical Director of Hospice Care of the West. His grandfather inspired his work today as geriatric physician and hospice doctor.

Though from as early as age 6, he knew that he wanted to be a doctor. He recalls playing doctor with his two sisters. He would treat their dolls and mark their faces with the measles. And he would concoct a make-believe Tilo, a medicinal plant, in milk, that the children would drink at the first sign of measles or mumps to push the fever and virus out of the body.

“I was always a dreamer since I was a boy,” Dr. Rivero said. “I dreamed of becoming a doctor.”

His mother, Maria, was so proud of his dreams, as she shared the same dream. As a young woman, she worked in a pharmacy with her uncle. Maria liked the chemistry of concocting the medicine and she wanted to go to medical school. But her uncle encouraged her to become a pharmacist, which did not interest her.

“My mother has a great memory and she was very curious,” he said. “She would have been a good doctor. Even today at 82, she has a good memory. She was always a good Mom. She gave us the space to make our own goals and she never imposed anything on us.”

Maria ended up becoming a homemaker after meeting his father, Jorge, an appliance salesman.

“My father was a hard worker and he was committed to his family,” Dr. Rivero reflected.

Yet, at six years old, his parents divorced. Jorge was the emotional pillar of support for his father in the aftermath of the divorce. Life changed. Jorge had to move from his childhood home and neighborhood, but he was relieved that he did not have to change schools.

He attended an American Congregational School founded by missionaries. This school was a part of Catholic parish that Jorge’s family was a member of in Lima. His classes were in both Spanish and English. By the time he graduated from fifth grade, Jorge could read, write and speak in English.

“I had a diverse education,” Dr. Rivero said. “I had a teacher from Ireland, Spain, the Philippines and many American and Peruvian teachers.”

He recalls in fifth grade being intrigued by the human body and skeleton. By high school, he loved to go to class and listen to his teachers.

“I never missed any school,” he said. “I enjoyed school for learning, not for the grades. I was B student until I started to look around at what medical school I wanted to go to. Then I realized I would be competing with the cream of the crop. I started getting A’s in my last year.”

He recalled his chemistry teacher would give lectures at the beginning of every class.  He drummed in Jorge the importance of working hard, making your dreams a reality and having passion for a career.

“My chemistry teacher had a big impact on me,” he said. “I still remember today some of the lessons he taught us.”

After graduating high school, Jorge attended an academy that trained him for the medical school entrance exam. The competition was fierce with 1,300 applicants vying for 106 spots at a renowned private medical school in Lima. He attended classes from April to December and then took the test. He came in 128, only 22 spots shy of being accepted to the school. Disappointed but even more driven, he returned to the academy to prepare for the following year’s entrance exam. In the academy, he met other students who had taken the test three and four times. So, he was cautiously confident as he entered the test for the second time.

The day the test results were posted he and his friend Francisco hopped a bus to the university. When he arrived there, he heard voices in the crowd as he exited the bus.

“He got in, grab him,” said the voices of some of the medical students. They tackled him and marched him to the window to see the list on campus. He was number 28 on the list.

Elated, he succumbed to what he knew would come next—a ritual of acceptance by the medical students of the university. Jorge was taken to the field where his hair was shaved off. As he looked down the field at the other new accepted students of his class, he saw Francisco having his hair shaved off.

After the ritual of acceptance, he called his mother on a pay phone to share the news. She burst into tears of joy. His father graciously paid for his tuition, which was quite a bit more than if he attended the public medical school in Lima.

“My father’s great legacy was his financial commitment to help me with medical school,” Jorge said.

In medical school, his friend Benjamin Robalino convinced Jorge to take the test to do his residency in America. To his surprise, he passed. After completing his internship practicing medicine in the Navy and later serving in public health medicine, he travelled to Los Angeles to prepare for the test to practice medicine in America. He felt welcome in Los Angeles among a large Latino community.

After six months, he travelled up on San Francisco to live with his sister and cousin. Within a year, he took the test and passed. The next step was to be matched with a residency program. He went out on a serendipitous blind date the day that he found out he did not receive a match for a residency program. He would have to spend another year in San Francisco without practicing medicine.

His cousin set up the blind double date with his future wife, Lourdes. She was not too fond of the blind date concept. It was not common in South America. She had immigrated to San Francisco from Honduras when she was 16 years old.

“Lourdes was hesitant, her body language showed it,” he said, chuckling at the memory. They met at a famous Brazilian Club. As the live music played, she eventually warmed to Jorge and they started dating. After a year, he was accepted to do his residency in family medicine in Cleveland, Ohio. He and Lourdes visited back and forth. Jorge struggled to adjust to a major culture shock and staying up all night on call at the hospital.

“The first year was brutal,” he recalled.

Lourdes left her banking position in the financial district of San Francisco to join him in Cleveland after a year. They had a small wedding in Cleveland in June 1987 and then they travelled to Peru to have a church wedding in the company of family and friends.

In 1989, they moved to Los Angeles where Dr. Rivero practiced geriatric medicine through a fellowship at USC. Not long after, they started their family in Mission Viejo because they fell in love with the neighborhood. Dr. Rivero’s greatest joy is being committed as a father to his children Eric, Gabriela and Andres.

“I am like my father—family oriented,” he said, proudly. “We have raised three children who are focused on their education but also very well-rounded.”

The spirit of his father and his grandfather live on in him today.

“I think I discovered how to interact with the elderly while taking care of my grandfather,” Dr. Rivero said. “He had a lot of geriatric issues, but he was such an interesting guy. I loved to hear his stories. And I love the social component as well as the clinical component of caring for my elderly patients.”

After USC, Dr. Rivero joined the faculty at University of California, Irvine where he cared for a large senior population that opened a window to understanding the inner workings of hospice. He noticed that when he referred patients to Hospice Care of the West and made the decision to be the attending doctor in the care of his patients, the nurses always collaborated with him on symptom management. He had not had that experience with other hospices. Through Hospice Care of the West, he began to see the benefits of hospice care improving the quality of life for his patients and their families at home. In 2006, he was asked to join as Medical Director of Hospice Care of the West. Not long after, he left UCI to go into private practice with Senior Health Care Associates.

“As an elderly care doctor, I have to be sensitive to picking up on the loss of function in my patients,” Dr. Rivero said. “And, I have learned to be comfortable with dying issues. I see hospice care as part of my approach when the goals to improve function change for my patients and they reach a point of no longer getting better. I provide continuity of care as they go on hospice. I’m not signing them out to anybody else. My commitment is there.”

Commitment and persistence are woven throughout Dr. Rivero’s life dedicated to making life better for seniors and their families. Looking back, he leaves this piece of wisdom for his children and the next generation.

“Pursue your dreams whatever it takes, obtain the tools and be persistent. Sometimes it takes longer than you’ve dreamed to achieve it, but I have tested it out and I am living proof that with persistence and the right tools you will make your dreams a reality.”

The post Celebrating the Life Journey of Our Hospice Doctor appeared first on Our Life Celebrations.

 By Dave Boyle

“The first thing to go from my memory after my dad died was his voice. The second, his laugh.”

Denise Carson

Denise was only twelve years old when her father, Richard, passed away in 1987. She still remembers the sterile, unfriendly atmosphere of the hospital room, the tubes, and the unnecessary ambulance rides. She knew, as much as any 12 year old can know, that this was no way to spend the last days of your life.

Her grandparents had met in the Philippines; her grandfather an American in the U.S. Army and her grandmother 100% Pilipino. Her dad was born in 1949 and immigrated to the United States in 1967. He was a great dancer, had an infectious smile, and owned his own business. He was just 37 years old when he passed away from cancer.

“When you lose a father at twelve years of age, you just don’t lose him at twelve,” Denise says, “you also lose him on your 13^th birthday. You lose him on your 16^th birthday. You lose him when you get your driver’s license. You lose him when you graduate from high school. You lose him when you graduate from college. You lose him at all the milestones, as you try to make sense of your life through the lens of his absence.”  Denise has memories of her dad, happy memories, and loving memories. But there are not enough of them and the ones she has are not as clear as she would have liked them to be.

Her mom and dad had divorced years earlier, but this of course was way different. Now she, her brother Ryan and her mom Linda were truly on their own. Denise’s mom was a very strong and courageous woman, and time does not permit the thousands of words it would take to do her justice. The best way to meet Linda Carson would be to read Denise’s book, “Parting Ways.” I usually find myself choosing relatively unimportant sporting events or inane political shows on television over getting lost in a good book, but this book I polished off in a few days. Denise’s depictions of her mom captivated me and made me feel like I know her. I also got to know Denise better, which is one reason why I wanted to celebrate her today.

After her mom was diagnosed with cancer, Denise decided that it wasn’t going to be like it was with her dad. This would be different. Mom would be celebrated. If it’s true that you only die when the memory of you is gone from people’s minds and hearts, then Linda Carson was never going to die.

The first thing Denise did with her mom was Life Review, learning many things  that she hadn’t known before and understanding her mom liked she had never understood her before. Denise could feel her heart melting as she listened to her mom share her pain and admit her shortcomings. Life Review also led Denise and her mom to do something that most people in that situation don’t even think of doing, cleaning out the closet, while the person is still alive. In her book Denise writes the following. “Cleaning out the closet is usually a task performed after a person dies. The ritual marks a state of acceptance that the deceased will not be returning. After the funeral and after everyone stops coming around, you are left to enter the wardrobe wafting with scents of your loved one. And by then the clothes are just clothes, and the books are just books. But what if you cleaned out the closet with the person there? I believe the life review helped us together reach this revelatory stage of acceptance before her death.”

The second phase was the Last Wish. It was now November of 2001, three months before her mom’s passing. How do you celebrate the last Thanksgiving? The last Christmas?  The last birthday? For Denise it was going through recipes with her mom and cooking Thanksgiving dinner. It was trimming the Christmas tree as Linda entertained with stories of the history of the ornaments. And it was inviting close friends over for a birthday celebration complete with cake and candles, as well as a surprise visit from the pastors and members of the choir of Linda’s home church, saying a prayer and singing Amazing Grace for her.

Denise Carson and her Mother, Linda Carson.

The final part of the journey with her mom was sitting vigil at her bedside in her last days and hours. Scripture passages were read from her well-worn Bible. Instrumental praise music hummed on the CD player. Prayers were said, and a sponge bath was given followed by a fresh pink nightgown. A last “I love you” from Linda to Denise, and a sunset. And then at 2:07, Sunday February 10^th, 2002, Linda Carson went into the arms of her Heavenly Father, surrounded by family and friends.

Denise writes in her book, “They say hearing is the last sense to go. I recited the Twenty-Third Psalm by heart. Then I opened her Bible and read Psalm 139. As I read the first verse, a song came to me, a song I hadn’t sung since I was a girl in Sunday School. The song was Psalm 139 called ‘Search Me of God.’ I sang loudly, like a sorrowful siren expelling my grief from the depths of my soul with every note.”

Search me, oh God, you know my heart; try me and know my anxious thoughts.

See if there be any hurtful way in me and lead me in the everlasting way.

Which brings me to why we’re here today. Four years after her mom’s passing Denise crossed paths with Donna Miller, who was then the Volunteer Coordinator with Solari Hospice, and who would soon become the Director of Volunteer Services here at Hospice Care of the West. Denise followed Donna around for two years, interviewing her and chronicling the things that Donna and her volunteers did. And then in 2010 shortly after her own mother had passed away, Deb Robson accepted the position as our Executive Director, and immediately hit it off with Denise. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall in some of those early meetings as the two of them bantered back and forth about the ideas that they could bring to their new endeavor.

As I go over Denise’s book “Parting Ways” in my mind, I can’t help but be taken by the fact that Denise did a life review with her mom. Denise gave her mom a last wish. Denise sat vigil by her bedside in her last hours. Life Review. Last Wishes. Sitting vigil. Do any of those sound familiar? Shannon, Jay and their team do a fantastic job with the Life Review videos with our families. Caitlin Crommet started the DreamCatchers program four years ago through Hospice Care of the West, providing last wishes for our patients.  And our Volunteer Department provides Vigil Volunteers, so no one has to die alone. Celebration was conceived because Denise and Deb thought it was important to celebrate us as we care for our patients and their families. These are some of the things that make our hospice a fulfilling and very unique place to work, and these are things that Denise, along with Deb and Jay, have helped bring to the fore-front at Hospice Care of the West.

Denise held a celebration for her mom before she passed, and Linda was able to hear all of the wonderful things that people had to say about her, and hear about all of the lives she had touched. We hold Celebration every other month, so we can share our stories of touching the lives of our patients and celebrate each other. Denise has done such a wonderful job of celebrating us, so I wanted to celebrate her today. Thank you Denise, for bringing us your heart, your soul, your wisdom and your experiences. Your story is truly your gift to us.

The post The Journey to Celebration! appeared first on Our Life Celebrations.

Sandy Platamone, a nurse at Hospice Care of the West, holds a knowing presence at the bedside with her patients and their families. They are relieved to have her there to listen, understand, take away the pain and help navigate the unknown. Living with dying is a familiar landscape. Like a veteran, she knows every piece of the terrain.

Though, Sandy will tell you, she took a detour on her way to becoming an R.N. Since, as long as she can remember she wanted to be a nurse. Sandy recalls sitting down everyday after kindergarten to watch the soap opera General Hospital. She stared at the nurses and envisioned herself as one of them.

She practiced her nursing skills on hurt animals or sick friends in the neighborhood. If a bird fell out of a tree, she would turn a shoebox into a makeshift nest and nurse the bird back to health. Her nurturing spirit comes from her mother, a typical ‘50s homemaker, yet a fiery, strong, passionate Italian woman. Her love for service to others came from her father, the quintessential servant as a World War II veteran and the neighborhood mailman.

She grew up in an Italian family and home, as the middle and only girl between two brothers in Temple City. Some of her favorite memories growing up play out in the kitchen learning to cook at her mother’s side, which inspired her to study nutrition in college. By the time she graduated with a Bachelor of Science in home economics from Cal Poly San Luis Obispo, she grew tired of food and recipes. She was ready to see the world.

Sandy became a flight attendant and joined Air America transporting military personnel on charters into Cairo, all over the Middle East, Panama and Asia. At times, she flew for 24 hours straight. That meant coping with crisis in the air, thousands of feet above the ground.

Around her 28th birthday, she felt the call to ground her life. She realized it was time to settle down, find a husband and become a nurse. She worked in the office at Air America during the week, attended school at night and then flew to Honolulu and back as a flight attendant every weekend.

At Air America, she met a guy named Tony Shima from Iowa and he asked her out that day. On their first date, she remembers walking with him on the beach, her favorite place. Not long after, he became a firefighter with the City of Burbank. And Sandy became a nurse at Little Company of Mary Hospital in Torrance. Life unfolded so perfectly that before she knew it, Tony asked for her hand in marriage, yet Sandy stalled. She loved being independent, but then she gave in realizing that she loved Tony more. They honeymooned in Big Bear. Tony came into the family as a shy quiet country boy but quickly became an honorary Italian. Within a few years, Sandy gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Kelsey.

Life was rise until Sandy’s mother was diagnosed with leukemia, shortly after Kelsey’s third birthday. And then, Tony was diagnosed with colon cancer a few months later.

“It was April 4^th 2000, he was only 39,” Sandy said. “I’ll never forget the day when we were at the hospital where I worked. And one of my friends who was his surgeon said, ‘Sandy, I’m so sorry to tell you this but, the cancer has extensively metastasized to his liver.’”

Thrown into the cancer lifestyle, Sandy and Tony adapted to chemotherapy, the clinical trials and the nausea. It was like a roller coaster. By summer’s end, Sandy’s mother entered an in-patient hospice. Her mother’s pain was not controlled.

Sandy sat on her mother’s deathbed and wept. Her mother summoned every bit of fire left in her soul to say, “You got to be strong, Sandy.”

When she died, Sandy could not grieve. She had to dig deep and keep going for Tony. It was then she made a vow that her husband would be in no pain, like her mother was.

Knowing it was their last Christmas together, Sandy arranged a trip to the mountains to stay in the very same cabin that they honeymooned in. Tony was determined to build his daughter a bike. The task proved difficult because of the altitude. Battling shortness of breath, he powered through and experienced the joy of his daughter receiving her first bike on Christmas morning.

“Kelsey was so excited,” Sandy said. “It was special because it was our last family time together.”

By January, he suffered. At one point, Sandy said to Tony, “You don’t have to do this anymore.” And he said, “I’m going to keep fighting.” He was so worried about taking care of his wife and his daughter. He wanted to buy a house. He didn’t want to let go of this beautiful life they built together. About a month later, he realized she was right.

“We said, everything we had to say to each other. Mostly, I would apologize for not marrying him sooner,” she said with a chuckle.

Hospice came. At the time, as a hospital nurse focused on curative care, she barely knew what hospice was. She dismissed the care, except for the social worker.

“I wouldn’t let anybody do anything,” she said. “I was his nurse.  It was how I coped. Sometimes, I think, God put him in my life because I was going to be the one to help him die.”

She bathed him, administered his medications to ensure he was in no pain, and lovingly cared for his every need until his last breath in their home. It was less than a year, 11 months between Tony’s diagnosis, her mother’s death and his last breath, yet they played in her mind slowly, over and over, reel by reel, like a bad movie after Tony died.

Sandy could no longer live in their home. She moved to San Clemente. She found the ocean view home that became the sanctuary for her grief and then a church and community that brought a new season of life for Sandy and Kelsey.

“I don’t know if my Mom and Tony were looking out for me but I got my ocean view,” she said. Sandy took time off to be a mother to Kelsey as she entered kindergarten then grade school. Around the time Kelsey was in third grade, Sandy mentioned to a friend she was ready to go back to work. Her friend suggested she reach out to gal she knew who ran a homecare company.

“The homecare company turned out to be a hospice,” Sandy said. “You know I feel like I could never teach somebody how to breastfeed until I had Kelsey. After going through hospice with my Mom and Tony, I just knew what to do. So, hospice found me. The pieces of the puzzle of my life finally came together. Looking back, the wisdom that I’ll pass on to my daughter is serve others, people and animals.”

This past summer, Sandy caught glimpses of Tony living on in her daughter at a Dude Ranch in Wyoming.

“Kelsey fell in love with the country, and caring for animals, she is a country girl just like her Dad.”

The post Hospice Nurse Knows the Way appeared first on Our Life Celebrations.

Just days after her father died, Debbie Robson, Executive Director of the Hospice Care of the West, watched the montage of his life review in photos to the song, “It’s a Wonderful World,” at his Celebration of Life in April. She felt transported back in time and realized first hand the importance of our life review video program that transforms the end of life experience for patients and grieving families at Hospice Care of the West.

“It was healing for me to see the completion of his life and my mother’s life, our family unit,” Debbie said. “Now when I think about memories of my family I picture the healthy, happy times, that replace the devastation of illness that really makes you lose a sense of yourself, and is really dark at times. What we do in hospice helps to lighten that darkness and life review video rebuilds the family unit in a very powerful way.”

The process of sifting through the photos of her father, Chuck, and subsequently her mother, she learned about facets of his life that he had never shared such as his service as a medic in the Korean War and that he was ballroom dancer as a child. She understood more about his work as an engineer at Boeing. And most of all, how much he loved her mother and their family. The journey through his life review in photos became their last conversation.

The experience has furthered her passion for our mission at Hospice Care of the West to Celebrate Life and Preserve the Legacy of our patients and each other.

A week before Debbie took the helm of Hospice Care of the West in 2010, her mother, Nora passed away. Her mother’s spirit lives on in the many ways that Debbie leads, cheerleads, motivates and supports her team—nearly 100 strong— at Hospice Care of the West. Debbie has cleverly sewn the spiritual into the day-to-day operational works of Hospice Care of the West. When I say spiritual, I mean that she recognizes and celebrates that we are all connected to a purpose greater than ourselves. We each have a story. And that personal story is what makes each member of the team extraordinary.

“My mother was my greatest cheerleader,” Debbie said. “She was not judgmental of me or anybody. She demonstrated kindness, acceptance, always smiled and spread happiness wherever she was.”

One of her favorite memories growing up was watching her mother sew her cheerleading uniforms for Pop Warner Football and dresses that she had dreamed up. Those early lessons of sewing taught Deb that she could follow a pattern of a dress to transform a vision into a lived reality. A dress drawn on paper could become a sparkling new outfit. Likewise, her father taught her how to turn a roadmap into a memorable family vacation to the Grand Canyon and Yosemite. These were some of the best times she spent with her family.

She was born in West Covina, California. Her parents divorced by the time she was two. Her mother remarried Chuck, not long after. The youngest of her siblings Gary and Sheri, Debbie was a mama’s girl. Her dream was to become a Mom like her own Mom when she grew up. Very young, she searched for a deeper connection with God. By six years old, she would ask her grandparents to take her to church on Sundays in Highland Park. She yearned to be in a spiritual community. By the time she reached high school, she joined Campus Life, a Christian youth group.  She loved the activities of the Campus Life from inspirational camps and activities that gave her a sense of belonging and fun.

After high school, she and her mother worked together at World Vision, a nonprofit organization that sponsors poverty-stricken children in third world countries. Her fondest memory at World Vision was meeting her mother once a week for Chapel. The whole company would come together for Chapel once a week.  Just like Mom, she took up sewing and sewed dresses and even a business suit for her mother to wear to the office and Chapel.

Deb married young and gave birth to two beautiful daughters, Brooke and Michelle. She achieved her dream of becoming a Mom. She was a stay at home mom. Yet, she felt the call to do more. With bold courage, she held the hands of her little girls and marched into the Chaffey College counselor in her mid 20s. The counselor gave her a five-year road map to becoming a nurse. School turned out to be a lifeline for Deb. She followed that map like a pattern of a dress. It became the vision for a new life as her marriage deteriorated. When she graduated from college with a nursing degree, she closed that chapter with a divorce. As a toast to their new life and remembering her family vacations, she and her daughters mapped their first road trip to the Grand Canyon. Deb went on to obtain her Bachelors degree and then her Masters in Business Administration.

She married Mark Robson in the early 1990s. Around that time, she became a home health care nurse and witnessed the profound changes the hospice team could make in the lives of her patients facing the end of life, many battled AIDS at that time. She recognized these patients needed more than medical care. They needed a team that included the psychosocial and spiritual handholding from the hospice social workers and spiritual care coordinators. She found herself referring countless patients to hospice.

She joined the hospice movement as it began to crest like a wave across America. As a hospice nurse, she loved the interplay with the interdisciplinary team that cared for the whole patient…body, mind and spirit. Debbie discovered her calling when she moved into management.

“You know you’ve found your passion when it doesn’t feel like work,” she said. Hospice is extremely gratifying because you can’t change the situation but you can make it the best possible experience for them. When people feel supported, they feel enriched.”

With Debbie at the helm, Hospice Care of the West has risen and continues to rise as an award-winning hospice leading the field with transformative patient care that shines as a beacon for other hospices. Hospice Care of the West has become widely recognized in the community and continues to grow with a census growing more than 40 percent since she started. Recently, hospice leaders, trusting her to be the voice for hospices across Southern California, voted Debbie to serve on the Board of Directors for California Hospice and Palliative Care Association.

She is a visionary in embracing the launch of the Celebration2Life blog now OurLifeCelebrations.com that has become a valuable link to the community while also establishing a culture within the hospice. She imagined Celebration to be like Chapel at World Vision. In a way, it is like a spiritual retreat, an hour dedicated to nurturing the spirits of the members of her team. It’s not an easy feat with a team nearly a hundred strong, but she has recognized that everyone is more engaged. In the same spirit of life review video, team members share their life stories and wisdom on a video played at the Celebration. A living eulogy of a team member is read aloud followed by an open microphone for team members to celebrate each other.

“Celebration is a manifestation of my personal mission to raise the standard of care in hospice and run an organization that cares for and inspires its employees in a way that strengthens them emotionally and spiritually to give greater care to our patients and their families in the community.”

The post Hospice Visionary Makes the Spiritual Operational appeared first on Our Life Celebrations.

Karyn Randall, Business Development Director, at Hospice Care of the West, is a hero for saving the life of Pat at Don Jose Restaurant in Anaheim.

Recently at Don Jose restaurant for lunch in Anaheim, Karyn Randall, the Business Development Director at Hospice Care of the West, heard a man shouting “HELP, HELP, HELP” coming from the lobby. Curious, she stretched her neck around the corner to see an elderly man embracing a lifeless woman.

“Pat,” he begged. “Please stay with me. Please stay with me. Don’t leave me Pat.”

Karyn felt a rush of adrenaline. And she threw her purse to Debbie Robson, Executive Director of Hospice Care of the West. Karyn felt herself shaking, as she ran to their side to help.

She looked down to see Pat’s face turning ashen and eyes rolling back. Her body was seizing. Karyn checked her heart.  No heartbeat. Her own fear subsided as she felt an out of body experience. She started chest compressions and giving CPR. Karyn focused on counting but still could hear the elderly man’s voice echoing.

“Please stay with me Pat,” he said repeatedly in distress.

Within minutes, the life sweep back into Pat as color returned to her face and her eyes stopped rolling. Karyn checked her heart. It started beating again.

“Can I have my fajitas now,” Pat said as she came to. The ambulance showed up shortly after to take Pat to the hospital.

Karyn sighed a breath of relief.  It took a lot of courage to save Pat’s life, as that was the first time Karyn performed CPR.

Ironically, growing up in Orange, Calif., one of six girls, Karyn recalled having a fear of hospitals and anything to do with medicine until shortly after her 21^st birthday.

Karyn carried her sick 18-month-old nephew, Alex, into the pediatrician. A battery of tests followed. And then the doctor delivered a cancer diagnosis with a one percent chance to live.

“We’re a tight knit family,” Karyn said. “But this brought us all even closer. The doctor recommended that we all learn CPR for Alex.”

The family lived with Alex at Children’s Hospital of Orange County everyday in shifts around the clock. Karyn grew a bond with the doctors, nurses and the families at the hospital.

“I couldn’t stop asking questions of the doctors and nurses,” Karyn said. She needed to know the details of the code blues and every treatment. A family member was always at his side as the life swept in and out of Alex. Even if he survived for a few years, the doctors said he would have limited brain capacity. And in her family’s darkest hour, Karyn felt a calling.

She enrolled in college to get her Licensed Vocational Nursing degree. After graduation, she joined a duo team of pediatricians in Orange. Her personal experience gave her an inner strength to guide families grappling with a sick child.

“I became a positive role model for the families,” she said. She advised families to live in the moment. A year later, Alex was released from the hospital and given a clean bill of health. The doctors at CHOC believed it was his mother and family’s positive attitude and constant vigil that kept him alive.

By Alex’s next birthday, Karyn was ready to transition out of pediatrics as she met and fell in love with a firefighter. They shared a passion for helping people in need and soon married. After the wedding, Karyn’s focus turned to starting her own family. She transitioned out of pediatrics and into marketing for a nursing home.

“My passion is geriatrics,” Karyn said. She saw her mother’s love for helping people and “do, do, do” nature in every lady in the nursing home. And her father’s drive for working to support his family lived in hearts of the men.

Two years after her wedding day, she gave birth to John Thomas.  He made her see the world differently. Sure she was a worrier because of her experience with Alex. Eventually, she took her own advice to live in the moment and bask in the joy of motherhood, whatever that brought her way. Four years later, Karyn birthed her baby girl, Annie.

As her family grew, her career in geriatrics evolved. A friend suggested she join a hospice company. Karyn’s initial reaction was “Heck no, I’m afraid of dying”. Again, her fears gave way to a deeper calling. Hospice brought together all the threads of her life experiences. She became a pillar of positive support for the families in hospice care. Four years into her hospice career, she received a call to join Hospice Care of the West. She refused, but not for long.

A week later, Karyn’s grandmother needed hospice. She gave her business card to the hospital nurse and just assumed they would call her hospice company. She then went home to prepare for her grandmother’s homecoming.

The doorbell rang and Karen Rose, R.N. a Hospice Care of the West admissions nurse stood on her doormat. Out of curiosity, Karyn invited her in. She watched in amazement. This nurse spent four hours with Karyn transforming her home into a comfortable place for her grandmother to return.

“I was like holy cow,” Karyn said. “I’d never seen a nurse work with a family like this before. It was phenomenal, the only thing I could think of was everyone deserves care like this.  The admissions nurses I worked with were in and out in an hour. Often I stayed with the family because I didn’t trust the nurse to support the family through the early hours of their transition in hospice.”

The social worker and team from Hospice Care of the West followed and supported Karyn and her care for her grandmother in such an awesome, compassionate and complete way. Three weeks later, she joined Hospice Care of the West. For the first time in her life, she felt like she wasn’t selling a service.

“I feel honored to share hospice with doctors, families and patients because I know that we all feel lucky to be there for them and I know in my heart, I buy cialis discount can deliver on every promise,” Karyn said.

The word courage comes from the Latin word heart. Karen acts and speaks from the heart. Looking back over her journey so far, Karyn overcame her fears of medicine to be present for her nephew, Alex. That experience gave her the undeniable courage to now be that present light for families. Today, her family celebrates Alex’s recent graduation from college and his seven full-ride scholarship-offers for law school.

After lunch at Don Jose, Karyn realizes you can summon the courage to make anything possible even bringing someone back to life. Karyn received a call from Jerry, Pat’s brother, to invite her out to lunch to celebrate Pat’s life at Don Jose after she gets out of rehab. Pat suffered a massive heart attack, stayed in hospital for seven days, and is now in rehab thanking God everyday for Karyn.

Debbie sent out an email to the Hospice Care of the West team sharing the story of the “Hero Among Us” and Karyn was virtually toasted by her peers via email. One toast from Alan Grotsky said, “Rarely can you go to work in the morning at hospice and SAVE A LIFE.” Another one from Erin Rodgers, remarked, “Way to Go K, you earned your angel wings today.”

As I read the emails, tears welled. I remember the first time that I heard of Karyn. Deb described her as Tinker Bell spreading the light of hospice to doctors, patients and families in their darkest hour. Now, I realize those wings existed long before the day she saved Pat’s life.

The post The Angel of Hospice Finds the Courage to Save a Life appeared first on Our Life Celebrations.

Kathy Rojas, Patient Care Manager at Hospice Care of the West, in Orange County.

Kathy Rojas, Patient Care Manager at Hospice Care of the West, arrived at Eli’s home in Leisure World. The doctors were at a loss with Eli. They just couldn’t make him comfortable. He wouldn’t eat or drink because he no longer liked the texture in his mouth.

Kathy walked into the kitchen to find Eli, a frail man in his 70s, siting at the table. She sat down next to him.

“My mouth is so dry,” he cried repeatedly. Kathy sensed the dry mouth was connected to something more.

“Have you seen your family?” she asked.

“No, I don’t want them to see me like this. I can’t do the things I use to do,” he said.

“It would be nice to have them here, so they could be around you. And you could talk. I don’t think they’d mind if you can’t take them out to Sea World.”

Eli laughed.

“Is there something that relaxes you, like music,” she said.

He smiled.

“I’m a composer,” he said.

“Well, why don’t we listen to your music,” she said.“You can listen, and enjoy what you have accomplished.You know we have a home health aide, Marcello. He can give Robert a break. And come in, clean you up and you’ll feel like a new man.”

Robert was Eli’s caregiver and partner. Kathy turned Eli over to one of her best nurses, Jessica Bourbeau. The next day, Marcello came in and gave what Eli raved was the best bath ever. Eli began listening to his music. He called his family. And they joined him. Five days later he passed peacefully in his home.

“That’s what hospice is,” Kathy said, as her voice cracked. “When you see families come together, you know you did your job. When you can be there, when the family can’t be there, you know you did your job.”

Kathy has been a Licensed Vocational Nurse, LVN, which meant she had to practice under a Registered Nurse for 20 years. The last five years, she began to focus on becoming a RN. Kathy dreamed of becoming a nurse since she was a girl. In her Long Beach home, she would turn over her baby doll’s crib and transform it into an examining table, then dress up in her nurse’s costume and care for her dolls.

She was very close to her father. He always had high hopes that she would one day become a RN. He suffered from a massive heart attack at age 40 and was pronounced dead in the grocery store. A nurse revived him by administering CPR. From then on, he dreamed of the day his daughter would become a cardiac nurse. But after high school, she followed another dream to become a fashion merchandiser and married young. The fashion path petered out. Kathy became a mother and later followed her calling to get her LVN. She was on her way, until a divorce left her alone as a single mother of two.

Becoming a RN was no longer a top priority. She had to care for her daughters, and later a family member who was quadriplegic in her home. At the time, she worked in home health. The experience transformed her care as a home health LVN, Kathy realized that a caregiver also needs to be cared for, not just the patient. That revelation led her into hospice care focused on treating the patient and the family at the end of life. She joined a new team at Hospice Care of the West and Pam Willey, RN, became her mentor, and encouraged her to make her dream of becoming a RN a reality.

Yet, Kathy didn’t pursue that dream until a wake up call on Fourth of July, five years ago. Her father committed suicide. He was a veteran and at his funeral, his mother cried with a heart full of regret. Kathy remained

composed during the service, having to help her mother.

Shortly after his passing, she attended the death of one of her patients. Kathy broke down when the patient’s body was carried out. It’s so final. From then on, she cautions families and all of her nurses to prepare for the body of a loved one to depart from the home. She asks the family if they would like to bath and dress the body, in the case of veteran, she makes sure he is in uniform, so that he goes out with dignity, and honor.

“When a patient passes, I make sure our nurses aren’t just going there to pronounce and leave, because the family needs us,” she said. “I attended a death in Long Beach, and while I was charting, I saw a picture on the wall of their Dad in the service. So, I asked about him and the stories of their father just poured out. They were so happy and said, ‘Wow no one ever asked us that before.’ You just have to pick something small to talk about and watch the patient or family just open up.”

Kathy reflected that the Celebration at Hospice Care of the West reminds us of the power in celebrating our patients every day, even if it’s something as small as just asking about a picture hanging on the wall above the bed. That conversation becomes a celebration of his or her life.

Recently, Kathy received a tribute of her own at the Hospice Care of the West Celebration. A few months ago, she passed her State Boards. Today, Kathy is a full-fledged RN.

“My Dad never got to see me become a hospice nurse. I did it for him,” she said. “And I always tell my daughters now, to follow your dreams and never give up, no matter how long it takes, you can make your dreams come true.”

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Dave Boyle, Spiritual Care Coordinator

Each time, Dave Boyle, a hospice spiritual care coordinator, sits down at the bedside, he embarks on a journey with his patients that begins with a simple disarming question—

“So, where were you born?”

And just like that he cracks open the mental book of her life and his patient reflects on the chapters both spiritual and not so spiritual that define who she was and who she is today. You wouldn’t know it by looking at this laid back, humble guy, but Dave has taken this journey hundreds, if not more than a thousand times since he started with Hospice Care of the West in 2004.

He gently guides his patients’ life reflections full circle to the here now.

“Are you at peace?”

Surprisingly, more often than not, his patients respond “yes.” As the question is not are you ready to meet God? Or have you atoned for your sins? He is a caregiver of the soul, not a priest.

He will then ask, “Would you like me to pray for you?

Rarely, do his hospice patients ask for health prayers. Most of them would like to pray for their children or an estranged loved one.

As he wraps up his first visit, he always asks,

“Is there anybody you need to forgive?

Or, is there anybody that may need to forgive you?

That’s when the tears come, which is why he always makes sure to ask this question on the first visit, because he never knows if it will be his last. Dave recalls one such afternoon when a woman in her 90s cried and talked of her estranged daughter in Florida. Upon contacting her daughter, he learned of a mother who lived a tough life abandoning her daughter on multiple occasions to run off with multiple men. Yet, he found a way through the pain and sadness to reconnect them before she died. His faith often pads the journey into the unknown for many.

End of life can often be a dark time for families as past grievances come to the fore. Dave brings light to these dark hours sometimes through prayer and other times through scripture. Sometimes he hears from his patients and their families we haven’t been to church in years.

“Not to worry, I’m coming to you now,” he says.

He meets his patients right where they are and provides them with spiritual support they need. Sometimes, this means reconnecting the patient and family with a local mosque or temple.

Many of his patients are World War II veterans who remind him of his father. They don’t open up very easily when it comes to talking about the war and combat. Yet, he often finds a way to connect with them. He attributes his gift with people to his mother who could relate to anybody.

His nonjudgmental, disarming demeanor is born out of a darker time in his life when he battled addictions to drugs and alcohol. Though Dave was born in a small Midwest suburb called Oak Park in Illinois in 1957 and grew up as the youngest of four children playing baseball and attending church twice on Sunday, by age 16, he rebelled against the life that was cut out for him.

Still, he attended Biola University, a Christian college, in California and studied psychology. He went on to work in in-patient hospital for psychiatrically challenged youth. He realized very early on that the youth often carried the pains of their parents. Many parents unwittingly passed on their troubles and neurosis to the children. He and his team came to realize that healing the child meant giving both the child and parents new tools and systems for reacting and interacting within the family at home. As he guided the young off from the edge of despair, he still found himself in troubled circumstances.

His additions haunted every aspect of his life and

by the time he reached his 30s, he pulled away the veil of denial and admitted to himself he had a problem after his first marriage failed. He could not have a healthy relationship because his addiction robbed him of any connection. Dave entered Celebrate Recovery, a Christian program to break his addiction. In 1993, he was born again when he became a follower of Jesus. He marks his life with a clear delineation between that time and now. Today, he has lived nearly two decades, 20 years, free of his addiction.

His connection with God was a religion, his parents’ religion, growing up, but after he was born again, he has a relationship with Jesus. In the Bible, God says he works all things together for good for those who are called to his purpose. In Dave’s life that proved true, as he became an in-take representative for New Life Ministries, a Christian organization for addicts and folks in need of recovery.

“The biggest obstacle in addiction is denial,” Dave said. So, any time someone called in for help, the person always asked what New Life Ministries offered.

“All

addicts will find 100 reasons not to go into recovery,” he said. “So, I always asked them to tell me a little bit about themselves first.”

Most of the time in his conversation, the person on the other end of line, would say,

“Have you been here before,” Dave would say at times “yes” if appropriate. But ultimately, he knew all the stops other addicts would pull, and he had a solution for each one. Once they ran out of excuses, they went into recovery sometimes just meetings, other times in-patient recovery for 30 days. Often he would get calls from the wives of addicts and he would ask,

“Does your husband know your calling, is he ready for recovery?”

Some, well most, would say no. He would then say, what we need to do first is empower you as you have been broken down as result of living with an addict. You will not be able to help him with an intervention until you become strong yourself.

His most rewarding calls came when two or three years later, he would hear from his patients, “Hey Dave, just want to let you know I’m celebrating two years sober today. And I couldn’t have done it without you.”

After 10 years of shepherding addicts to recovery, Dave found an ad in his church directory for a chaplain. At the time Hospice Care of the West was a start-up company. He thought that patients in hospice would look at him and say,

“How are you going to help me now, I’m in this spot,” he said thinking back to his first days as chaplain. “But I’m humbled by the attitude of gratitude that I receive from my patients. They are grateful I’m there and reaching out even at the end of their lives. That has been transformative for me to realize no matter where you are in life you can reach out.”

Dave strikes me as one of those humble guys, like George Bailey, played by Jimmy Stewart on “It’s a Wonderful Life.” He has empowered and guided lost troubled souls in their youth, in midlife and now at the end of life. He is evangelist for living a good life at all stages. His mission work has gone full circle through the human lifecycles.

I think the world is truly a better place because you’re here, Dave. Thank you for sharing your story with me and everyone here. You are an inspiration.

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