By that cold December morning in 2015, about a week after I told Roger he was dying, a few providers had offered hospice to him, unsuccessfully. Understanding what was important to him, I knew that Roger would pick hospice if he could get past his mistrust and concerns over the details. Here was my chance to help guide Roger through one of the most important decisions of his life, and I did not want to fail.

“I know I can’t fix your lungs,” I started, cautiously choosing my words, “but I am going to make sure that you are always comfortable, no matter what happens.”

He nodded calmly.

I pressed on: “I want to make sure that you will always have help when breathing becomes more difficult, and the best place to keep you comfortable is at inpatient hospice.”

I paused for his reaction.