Some people rave about their experiences with hospice. They vary. My grandpa (mom’s dad) was dying from dementia. He just stopped eating. We tried a feeding tube, but it didn’t work. He got weaker and lost weight. There was nothing we could do but keep him comfortable. When things were getting bad, my grandma called in hospice. My grandpa was no longer breathing right. He was making a “gurgling” sound due to build up of fluids which we have come to call the “death gurgle”. My grandma (dad’s mom) did the same thing when she died. It was midnight, and my grandma and aunt left to get some sleep. The hospice worker said his vitals were good, so they planned to be back in the morning. My aunt didn’t particulary care for the hospice worker. She said she could see my grandpa’s window as she pulled out of the parking lot. The nurse was watching them as though to be sure they were gone. They barely were home when they recieved the call that my grandpa had died. My family always wonders if she put something in his IV or put a pillow over his face to end it quick. We have no proof of such a thing, and there was no autopsy. We just weren’t impressed with hospice.