Sanctuary: Stories from Casey House Hospice

Ian C. Nelson is Assistant Director of Libraries, University of
Saskatchewan; and Director, Saskatoon Gateway Plays, Regina Summer
Stage, and La Troupe du Jour.

The role of journalist-broadcaster Patrick Conlon in compiling these
stories from Casey House Hospice is a little unclear, but one would like
to offer congratulations that after a brief and graceful introduction of
each chapter, he seems to disappear deftly behind each of the
stories—so effectively that only the voice of the speaker is heard. He
and the publishers have obviously put an extraordinary amount of care
and thought into producing Sanctuary as a statement of truth as to where
this first North American community-based AIDS hospice now stands. The
page layout and typography, cover art, title page, introductory quotes,
and chapter-head designs all announce that this is a special book. The
reader need not worry that this is a story about either a sacred
institution or individual saints. Sanctuary traces the beginning of the
idea for Casey House and the gathering of such supporters as June
Callwood, describes the establishment of the project (with its problems
of fundraising and adapting a haunted building on an inner-city Toronto
corner teeming with activities that would seem to promote the spread of
AIDS on its very doorstep), and even offers suggestions of further
development as a hub for the “continuum of care to dying people,
whether it is in a freestanding hospice or in the home.” Each speaker
seems remarkably free to admit near-misses and mistakes in the
development of the facilities and program of the hospice, to suggest a
personal vision for development, and to state frank—but obviously
committed and loving—criticism. The panoply of speakers is
broad—volunteer and professional, administrator and caregiver,
resident and lover—and the validity of each voice, famous or humble,
rings clearly on each page. This is a book that is not afraid to tell
about ghosts and hookers and the kind of life that can bring a resident
to its doors. And in the context of living with AIDS, the
conversations—transcribed faithfully, down to the hesitations and
unfinished sentences or thoughts—reveal a vision of care that has
enough humanity to acknowledge the frustration and the importance, for
instance, of a yelling match over whether one should have a cigarette.

What is particularly noteworthy is that each chapter is in fact a
personal glimpse into the heart of a person associated with some aspect
of this special hospice work. It would be a disservice to say that any
one voice is more important than any other: each is a unique perspective
from which we can gain some wisdom. One is compelled, nevertheless, to
recommend the chapter from Nursing Director John Flannery as one of the
best succinct explorations of the issues of palliative care that one is
likely to find.

Sanctuary is a haven of sanity and acceptance in what seems to be an
increasingly unforgiving fin de siиcle: “Casey House works. For all
our mistakes, for all we still don’t know, for all we know we can
always do better, it works. It feels right.”