My thoughts keep coming back to my patient in Room --, bed two I'll call Max. Max is a small Asian man with eyes that appear to be in a constant state of surprise. Max is waiting to die.

3 years ago Max underwent a lobectomy of his left lower lobe in an attempt to eradicate the cancer that invaded his body. Afterwards, when his wife questioned the oncologist as to why there would be no chemotherapy or radiation (supposedly the surgery was successful) he replied "who is the Dr. you or me?".

With no treatments to stop it, the cancer proceeded to metastasize to his brain, bones and liver. Cancer also settled back home in his lungs and is now considered stage 4. In case you don't know, there are no stages beyond 4, just variations of it. Put another way, the prognosis is pretty bleak.

Max's wife wanted to sue the oncologist, Max insisted she did not.

His wife chatters endlessly with a nervous edge to her voice. She wraps Max in expensive negative ion blankets that are supposed to have medicinal purposes and feeds him most of his meals. These days Max insists on pureed food (ground up like mashed potatoes) though he can have a different consistency. It's just easier to swallow that way.

They are opposites, Max is contemplative and quiet; she deals with the stress by nonstop activity and chatter.

As for me, I'm a Physical Therapist witnessing this end of life drama. Recently, just as I was exiting the room, I felt a nudge inside me to ask Max if he wanted to pray.

I know someone reading this blog may think, "leave the poor guy alone. Let him be at the end of life to deal with God in whatever way he chooses". If it's any consolation I only ask a patient if he or she wants to pray and if not respectfully leave them alone. You probably wouldn't complain if you saw the relief in most of the patient's eyes when they are asked to pray. Many are alone and scared and a prayer goes a long way to remind them of their Father's love in what seems like a God forsaken place.

Still, I hesitate to ask. "This man is probably a Buddist" I think "and I don't want to offend him. He's not going to change now anyway". Even so, I knew I would likely regret not praying with him when he passed away. Why am I confined by perceived social barriers when I see someone lingering at the edge of death? Doesn't that trump niceties?

"Max, do you want to pray with me" I whisper into his ear. Max nods and holds my hand. I proceed to pray for him, his peace, his healing be it God's will as well as his entry into God's kingdom upon death. Max face settles into a peaceful countenance after prayer and thanks me quietly.

Today I'm glad I asked.