From the start, I was not impressed. The nurse who came to our home to initiate my mother reeked of cigarette smoke and had a chronic cough further jeopardizing my mother's already compromised immune system. Upon my arrival to hospice, after my mother was transported to their center from the hospital, I was told she had not arrived yet - Immediately, provoking me to think she did not survive the commute. As I was shown the room she would be staying in, I found her tucked away, out of view, behind a room partition. When I asked the nurses to help straighten my mother's body into an up right position (she could no longer move herself), they both just stared at her for an indecent amount of time. Whether they were contemplating the approach or not, I found the action to be very unnerving. I finally had to ask what they were simply staring at. To put the proverbial icing on the cake, I had explicitly requested not to have any pain medicine administered, as this was my mother's wish. The nurse shoved morphine into her mouth when my mother began to cry out for me. As my mother was dying, the same nurse who administered the unwanted pain medicine, casually told me: "I knew she would die tonight, but I didn't think it would be this soon, keep talking to her", and walked out of the room. Perhaps if I was more accustomed to the death of a loved one, these words would not have pained me so much to hear as they were dripping with desensitized indifference. The ONLY good things I can say about my 48 hour experience with hospice - decent facility and Tiffany, the hospice liaison my mother met at the hospital, had more compassion than anyone I encountered during this horrible situation.