Death

Sometimes we equate death with someone that we meet, sometimes we know him all to well. Such is what I have today. This post is more to remember, for me personally, some of those I've lost and why they stay with me. The details are for me, and you dear reader, may join or not. While at times I laugh and joke at the things that happen, they make a heavy impact. These are not all that are with me, but today they are present.

My journey with death began before I took breath. There was a twin that died before birth. One physician told me that it was a miracle I survived with the other fetus there. I don't know. We never knew if it was male or female, I don't have any feelings either way. For years though I thought that my mom would have preferred the other one, I don't know why, but it was a very real emotion.

As a nursing student I one of my first patients was made not only "do not resuscitate" but no food or water. He was begging for a drink, mostly beer actually. That was a difficult patent to care for, he really pulled on my emotions and I couldn't understand why the family did that. Even now, when I look at those cases, I have trouble if the pt is conscious.

One of my first deaths was that of a woman while we were evaluating her for hospice. She died while I was taking her pulse and answering the questions about how the family would know it was happening. I still remember when the realization hit that she was dead and now what do I do. Hers was quite, peaceful, painless from all observation.

Unlike recently, when I went on break, came back to find a pt in my bed. He was all over the bed, obviously in pain. The basic story was he was about to have a minor procedure when he began complaining of chest pain. However, what they told the shift supervisor was he had a low blood sugar. Forgot to mention the heart attack that was going on!!! He died in pain, and I saw it. It's always the eyes that get me. When you know there is nothing you can do, I couldn't get the morphine quick enough to help. Again, one I had to stay alone in the room and just be there, tell him I'm sorry, and you tell them their family loves them and hope it's true.

Only a few weeks later we got a woman down from the floor. I don't even remember why, I think she was short of breath. Anyway, we got her somewhat stable and I resumed care for my pt. Later I realized they were not doing well in that room, went down to help. While standing at the bedside, she looked at me - I saw her eyes, asked if she was in pain, and then called for my co-worker, for she was dying. I didn't need the monitor to tell me anything, I knew before. Of course we coded her until the physician had us stop. We had her husband of many years come be with her, but she had been gone, he was just watching the monitor wind down.

The most recent is the one that troubles me most lately. He was my pt for several days, a truly delightful man. The way his room faced the unit he could watch everything that went on and he loved it. Then one day we switched a medication, it basically stressed his heart and he had pain, shortness of breath, all the signs of a heart attack. Of course we changed things and then not long after I was called away to a couple of codes. It bothered me that I had to leave him, what had I been called away before he developed those symptoms, would the others have noticed in time, my partners pts were quite busy. He made it through the day and I was off for several days. When I returned I asked which floor he had been sent to, they looked at me, then told me how he had died, in great distress, two days after I had him. I knew his heart was bad, but I guess I thought he would be okay for awhile. Maybe because he was funny like my dad, maybe just because I liked him, I don't know, but it hit me very hard.

Last year we had two young mothers die. We took the babies, we did every trick known to us (and their wonderful physicians) to save these women, but they had too many complications. I'll never forget seeing one staff nurse, a young man, frantically doing CPR on one as the other one rolled into the unit (she died two weeks later, same thing). They were so young, in their 20's, both very similar. Both babies survived. My staff, and obviously me, were traumatized. I still need to hold a baby.

This could go on and on. The one that no one could get the mother to let go, I came on duty with no plans to discuss it with her since everyone else had. She did the morning visit, walked up and said it was time to let him go. She allowed me to call his friends to come, arranged last rites for him, and let him go. There was the one I just watched while a nurse went to lunch, she passed away as soon as the girl left. There was one that I had in the ER, the spouse worked for us, while they were home getting ready for work, the pt died. We thought we were going to send her home. Again, so many.....

So what do I fear in death? I fear not seeing my children marry and have their own families. I want to see their children. Otherwise, I don't mind. The song "Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die" has been playing in my head constantly. Tis true. Yet is it death to self or death to the body? Death to self is harder. I have felt death in the air away from work only once. Sadly, it should have not been where it was. I hope to avoid it for some time with the new job. Death with peds would not be good. Maybe a few more snatches from the drain.