Every Thursday, Paul Ulrich climbs into his car and steers north on M-15 to Genesys Hospice, where he spends his day visiting with the terminally ill.
It’s a volunteer endeavor he began some two years ago, six months after his wife Mary Ann passed away.
‘We lived the American dream,? said Ulrich, 71, a retired engineer. ‘We got married and had four boys. We got a mortgage, planted a tree and bought a new car.?
But Mary Ann suffered a stroke in her early sixties, and spent four years battling back from seizures and paralysis.
It was a long process, but she was recovering, and ready to re-apply for her driver’s license when the unthinkable happened.
Mary Ann was diagnosed with stage-four, inoperable lung cancer.
‘It was horrible,? Ulrich said, remembering the helplessness of watching the woman he loved suffer so much. ‘She was in pain, she couldn’t breathe. It was terrible. Terrible.?
And a difficult experience in the hospital made it all worse.
The entire family was stressed, not eating, and running on two or three hours sleep every night.
A new crisis hit, every half hour, it seemed, for 10 long days, as the veracity of Mary Ann’s illness set in.
‘It was unbelievable,? Ulrich said. ‘How could this possibly be happening? But it is. The reality is, she’s terminally ill. Really, truly terminally ill.?
And so he made a decision; remembered a promise.
Mary Ann was going to die, that seemed certain.
But if her husband had his way’and he would’she would not die in pain. She would not die in the hospital environment where her family was treated as if they were in the way.
So around 7:30 one evening, Ulrich made the call to Genesys Hospice in Goodrich, where a dear friend had recently spent her last hours.
The load immediately lightened as a woman’s voice assured him a bed was available for his wife.
Call first thing in the morning, she said, and we’ll make arrangements to bring her over.
‘By 11 o’clock, my wife was ready to see us,? he said. ‘And her hair was combed and she’s in this beautiful little flowered gown and everything is as neat as a pin.?
After the family visited about three or four hours, he remembered, a nurse came in and asked whether they’d eaten anything.
Of course, no one had.
Suddenly, there were turkey sandwiches for everyone, and coffee and pop. And people who cared whether or not the family needed to be fed.
‘There’s this holistic approach,? Ulrich said. ‘You can just feel this unbelievable weight lifted off your shoulders. There’s all these people who’s mission it is to take care of you.?
Around 4 p.m., the nurse came back to ask how many would be staying the night.
‘My two daughter-in-laws stayed,? he said. ‘Unfortunately, Mary Ann died that night, about 4 o’clock in the morning.?
Today, Ulrich knows he did the right thing by bringing Mary Ann to spend her last hours, comfortably, in the hospice facility.
It is for that reason he now spends every Thursday volunteering at Genesys. He knows what a difference a day can make.
‘Most people who come in to this building are coming out of environments, especially if it’s a convalescent home, with unbelievable issues,? he said. ‘Number one, their pain is not managed. They’re drowning in pain. And they’ve got pressure sores and they’ve got infections and all these horrible things that have been going on probably for months.?
But the hospice philosophy, he said, is different.
First off, it accepts the reality that death, regardless of how it is often ignored and denied, is a natural part of life.
Hospice facilitators therefore require a physicians letter stating the patient is terminally ill and not likely to live another six months.
‘The first thing they do is manage your pain,? said Ulrich, noting, he, like all volunteers was extensively trained before beginning to interface with patients. ‘Here you’re going to die in a week or two and (in the hospital) they’re concerned about you becoming addicted to morphine.?
It’s that same philosophy, he said, underlying the facility’s smoking area, or the policy allowing alcoholic beverages.
‘If you are accustomed to having a drink before dinner,? he said, ‘your family can bring in your favorite brand of alcohol and you can have a drink. We like to make people comfortable, make them happy.?
But he’s not just helping out in a place where people are sick and dying.
His own life, in fact, is enriched just by talking’and listening’to patients.
One 78-year-old patient who passed away recently, for example, told Ulrich all about his days in the Navy, fighting in World War II’and other aspects of his life.
‘He was a nudist,? Ulrich laughed. ‘I learned a lot about what it takes to maintain a nudist facility, because he was the handyman. He was a great guy.?
Another patient, a 103-year-old woman who passed away in March, loved Victorian novels. So Ulrich would come on Thursdays and read an hour to her in the morning, and another hour in the afternoon. And they would talk.
‘These are such marvelous people,? he said. ‘All they really want to do is tell you about their lives, and that’s what we do, we listen and we ask questions about their childhoods and their early adulthood and their marriages.?
But the rewards don’t just come from the patients. Family members, he said, are grateful for the care and support they receive.
‘I don’t know how many times I’ve taken a wife’s hand or a daughter’s hand or a sons hand and said ‘your loved one was a wonderful person I’ve known him or her for two months and we’ve had this wonderful relationship and what a wonderful life he lead and how proud he was of you. People appreciate that they do.?
It is, in fact, often family members of the deceased who come back as volunteers’people who, like Ulrich, suffered the loss of a loved one, but feel grateful to the hospice staff and volunteers for’everything.
Mike Merrill, director of volunteer services at Genesys remembers hearing about Ulrich recently helping a woman who was having trouble doing her nails.
‘He’s someone who truly is enjoying what he’s doing,? said Merrill. ‘It’s pretty doggone special to do that.?
The nails got finished, and Ulrich and the patient shared a good laugh.
‘We’ve had a positive response from any of the patients who’ve spent time with him,? said Merill. ?’He’s someone who clearly demonstrates a sincere interest and really focuses on the person and what they’re saying.? I would be pretty easy to become distracted but I’ve never seen that with Paul. He’s very dedicated.
For Ulrich, it’s all about making a contribution’giving back and making a difference in the lives’and the last days’of others.
‘Mary Ann and I had a great run,? he said. ‘I wish it was still going on but its not. And we have no control over that, really. You really truly have no idea what tomorrow’s going to bring for you.?