It's a question I’m often asked on social media: ‘Is there an afterlife?’ As if by virtue of being a hospice nurse I’m some kind of an authority on what lies beyond.
And yet in some ways the people who ask me this are on to something. I didn’t have a formal religious upbringing, and until I became a nurse in my forties I had no concept of a life beyond our time on Earth. But working with the dying presented me with an opportunity that would change my beliefs: deathbed visions.
On duty in the hospice one day I was called into a side room by the daughter of one of my patients, Mrs Jones. ‘I think Mum needs some medication or something,’ said her daughter, worriedly. ‘She’s hallucinating.’
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