Not Everyone Wants Their Hand Held

One of the lessons I have learned in hospice is that not everyone wants their hand held. Yet so often, our instinct is to reach for the hand of the person in the bed, holding on tightly, assuming it will bring comfort. Rarely do we ask first.

A man once told me he felt trapped when his hand was taken without permission. That stayed with me. I began to wonder what it must feel like to lie in a bed, often unable to speak, while others move a pillow, adjust the bed, or reach for your hand without warning. It reminded me how important it is to ask before we touch.

These conversations matter long before we reach that place. We need to know how our loved ones feel about being touched. My brother, for example, was in the ICU without a voice. When a doctor touched his foot and it twitched, he immediately worried it was a seizure. I explained he was just extremely ticklish, something no one would have known if I hadn’t mentioned it, so I put up a sign: “Please don’t touch his feet.” If we know ahead of time, we can avoid unnecessary discomfort and honor their wishes.

As a hospice nurse, I have seen how hard it can be for adults in decline to say what they don’t want, often because they fear disappointing others. Children, however, tend to be more direct. In pediatric palliative care, I see kids pull their hand away or move from touch they don’t want, unafraid to make it clear. Perhaps that’s something we can learn from them, to speak up now about what we do and don’t want, so others don’t have to guess later.

Maybe that means leaving a note, a sign, or simply having a conversation: please don’t hold my hand, or yes, I love hugs. Whatever the message, sharing it now gives others the chance to respect us fully when we may not be able to speak for ourselves.

And in the meantime, perhaps we can all become more mindful. Just because we find comfort in a hug or a hand to hold doesn’t mean everyone else does. The most loving thing we can do is ask first.

xo

Gabby