‘People sometimes ask: isn’t it sad and sad there? But that is not the case at all,” says Jeannette Eijkenaar (66) in the kitchen-diner of the De Waterlelie hospice. With a large dining table, many plants and uplifting texts and nature photos on the wall, it looks like a private home. This hospice in Spijkenisse offers support in the final phase of life both here and at home. In De Waterlelie, 85 volunteers and a team of permanent staff make the ‘temporary residents’ as comfortable as possible.
Eijkenaar has been working there as a volunteer for eighteen years: “When I heard about the plans, it seemed so nice.” Her children had almost left home, she worked at a bakery, but wanted more: “I like to mean something to people.” Laughing: “I also like to please.”
Isn’t it heavy? Eijkenaar: “Volunteers are here at most twice four hours a week, so you don’t get everything.” But sometimes it does affect her. For example, a young woman recently lay here, “her twelve-year-old daughter became increasingly quiet.” And sometimes someone is the same age as themselves: “I think this could happen to my family too.” An insight that she takes home “too much”. Then I say to my husband: “See you this afternoon. I hope.”
Her tasks are “the little things”, like a chat, making sandwiches for the family, flowers in the vase. Or sometimes a fish from the market, or fries for someone. “Working with your hands behind your back, we sometimes say.”
The wishes of the residents differ. “Some want peace. Others talk endlessly and come and sit at our table.”
To work here, she completed training in palliative care. “Useful things like how do you put someone to bed? But also: how do you start the conversation? Volunteers sometimes want to have deep conversations, but it is quite practical. You ensure that people have food or drink, are clean and are comfortable.” Pay attention to signs: “If you see that someone is in pain, you can move a leg or gently lift their head. You discuss whether the morphine can be increased.” She says it shouldn’t take too long. “People are here for a maximum of a few months. And very occasionally they go home.”
That’s what “just sayin'” Wil (75) from Hekelingen, who stays in “the most beautiful room” hopes. She finds the care “excellent”. Eijkenaar can get her “a nice orange.” Wil has cancer and was picked up at home “with sirens screaming”. “I was confused, also because of those damn medicines. End of story, I tell my husband.” Wil speaks easily. “There’s no point in hiding from everything.” Eijkenaar: “I learn so much from this.”
Wil has just heard from the doctor, she says, that they still want to try chemotherapy. Eijkenaar, she nods admiringly: “They sometimes say to me: you are always cheerful. But what am I like when something really comes my way?”
She also helps at the Bernissesteyn care center. “Everyone can ask themselves: can you make a difference? Get active at the swimming pool or the mill foundation. Try to make something of it and not just point the finger at the government.”