I have been a hospice volunteer for more than 12 years, privileged to companion hundreds of men and women living the end of their lives and, with some, being present at their last breath. Being with dying people in their own homes is a rich experience, because we are surrounded by their personal effects, which tell the stories of their lives. Often, family members are present and we have ample room to move around, to share space and time in comfort. The kitchen provides refreshment. The house is peaceful and quiet, respecting the sacred process, which is taking place.

Unfortunately, my experience while sitting at the bedside of hospice patients in nursing homes is distressingly different--especially when death is imminent and loved ones are sitting vigil. The typically shared room is adverse to a peaceful dying process. It is hostile to visiting family and friends who often have nowhere to be. While visitors surround their dying loved one, helpless roommates must suffer the sights, sounds and smells of death and grief. Even worse is to be trapped on the other side of a flimsy curtain where the dead body of your roommate lies alone, awaiting removal.

Inspiration for action came to me because my mother lived the final six years of her life in a nursing home, the excellent Fairmont Care Center (fairmontcare.com) in Chicago. I passionately wanted her, and the other residents whom I have grown to love to have a transitional experience that was positive and beautiful. I decided to create an aesthetic space that would surround the hospice patient with beauty and comfortably accommodate many companions.

 
When I proposed this idea to the Fairmont I had already found an unused storage room to convert into this special space for hospice patients. Using my career background in home fashion, I worked with the administrator of the Fairmont to create the first Chrysalis Room. Each summer I raise monarchs in an incubator at the nursing station for the Fairmont residents. Together, we watch the monarch butterfly's mysterious and symbolic transformation as it proceeds through the chrysalis stage. I couldn't think of a more fitting name to represent life's second most significant transformation.

Following a paralyzing stoke in April 2006, my mother was admitted to hospice (heartlandhospice.org) for the third time in two years. One week later we moved her to the beautiful Chrysalis Room along with her favorite possessions. The night before she died, half-a-dozen residents wheeled into the Chrysalis Room to say a rosary, to demonstrate their love for her-- and to comfort me while we awaited her transition. Two of my friends came with love and food. I spent the night and was at my mother’s side when she died, peacefully, with the morning sun streaming across her bed through white wood blinds.

We bathed mother’s body, dressed her in her favorite robe, covered the bed with flower petals and invited her resident friends and caring staff to say goodbye. Five hours later, she was escorted out of the building with an honor guard of people who were important to her. I felt proud that I had honored my mother for giving me life by giving her a good death.

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Two of the residents who shared the experience of mother’s death told me they want to move to the Chrysalis Room when “it’s my time.”

In response to the positive experiences produced in The Chrysalis Room, The Lancaster Corporation, which owns The Fairmont, has installed Chrysalis Rooms in four of their other facilities.

For information on how to create a Chrysalis Room and implement Chrysalis Room Comfort Care at your facility, contact Loretta Downs at lsdowns@sbcglobal.net or phone 773.343.8208.