I just attended a terrific webinar conducted by the Hospice Foundation of America on supporting the LGBT community in death, illness and grief. The two presenters were Dr. Kimberly Acquaviva and Dr. Kenneth Doka. Dr. Acquaviva conducted the first part, which was aimed at professionals in the healthcare industry. She covered issues facing LGBT people and couples requiring care – does the healthcare professional’s agency have a non-discrimination policy for its employees, how are they prepared to serve the LGBT community. Does the intake person determine gender by looking at the person or is the person allowed to self-identify. It was all great information, and I was curious to know who was on the call. One of the best questions from a provider in the Q&A was when it was appropriate for a care provider to reveal his/her sexual orientation. Acquaviva, an out lesbian herself, answered that it is always about caring for the patient and there are ways to signal to the patient without coming out and saying it. Dr. Acquiviva is of the mind that it’s not a good idea for the provider to make any statement, not because they should hide it but because the care is completely about the patient. Dr. Doka covered an area very familiar to me: grief and disenfranchised grief. I lost my partner Jim in 1991. He (and we) were treated with respect at Hollywood’s Kaiser Permanente. Jim’s life ended in a hospice. But one of my two sisters never acknowledged him when he was alive (she and her husband would not come to my parents’ house when we were there) and she never, not once, acknowledged my grief. That changed eventually and she and her family were welcoming to Frank and me, but her reaction as if the man I lost was not worth commenting on compounded immense grief with fury. It’s not uncommon. Frank lost his partner Michael after 22 years, just seven months before we met, and I knew what I was dealing with. The grief section of the webinar was excellent, as were the many excellent questions. Just outstanding.]]>