Everybody in palliative care is extremely nice, maybe even too much so. I’ve had a procession of very sweet social workers talk to me at length, trying to find out if I’m experiencing suicidal ideation. I’m tired and have no ideation of any kind at this point. I’m also not prone to depressive episodes, but if anything is likely to plunge me into one, it’s forced sociability.
By the way, and I know people are curious, nobody offered us any hints at euthanasia. Since early September, I’ve been with my mother on three different wards in different parts of this hospital. She was moved around as her state deteriorated. Palliative care is by far the best, with more attentive and numerous personnel, better facilities, more comfortable rooms, and a lot more engagement from the doctors and nurses. The most professional nurses work on this ward. They’re all male and excellent at what they do.
I’m sure everybody understands why you need male nurses in palliative care. Most of the patients are no longer mobile, and you need a lot of physical strength to move them around.
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