| Friday, October 19, 2007 |
| musings on death |
I worked the evening shift today. One of the other PAs asked me to, because she was supposed to but had made plans a long time ago. In light of the fact that I had fun doing it last week, I said I would. And, sitting here realizing that I've only been home for an hour but have to get up to go BACK to work in 6 hours, I'm wondering if it was a good idea. But I actually do like working this shift. There aren't a whole lot of people in the hospital to distract you. You don't have a time limit - you admit as many people as you can, but when your time is done, you leave and someone else takes over. And you can pretty much figure the medicine out yourself. Yes, I have to call the doctor on-call to make sure the things I'm doing are ok (or ask, if I have questions). But usually I figure it out first and then call. Unlike the day shift, where I feel like I have to talk to them before I do anything.
The major thing I like about working days is that I get to connect with patients and their families and watch them get better (or worse, as the case may be). Form relationships with them. It can be good, or it can be hard.
I have come to realize that a lot more people die in hospitals than I originally thought. We tend to think of hospitals as places where people go to get better. But in reality, they can be a dangerous place. So often someone gets admitted, especially older people, for one thing - and then something else goes wrong while they are there. Usually it's because their body is weakened from the first illness ... but sometimes it's infections they catch from the hospital itself.
I've been thinking about this today because one of my patients died early this morning. She was 92 years old and had been admitted late last week with pneumonia. I can't go into detail, but she deteriorated this week to the point where we had called the family in yesterday. I spent a little while with them during the afternoon, before she died. They were all in there, crying and upset. When I left the room, it amazed me to think that I was shutting this little family off from the rest of the world. The rest of the world, going about its merry business, not knowing that a family's life was falling to pieces. I remember that feeling, two years ago when my grandma died. I remember walking out of her ICU room, hearing the nurses joking about something and thinking "don't they know what is happening to my family?" I remember thinking the same thing when I visited my friend Dave's dad in the hospital before he died. And again, when Mel died.
As a healthcare provider, I have to get used to death. I can't let myself get emotionally involved and torn every time someone dies. If I did, I would be an emotional mess all the time. And yet, for those families that I interact with, that's the only world there is. Right then, right there. And I wonder, is there ever a real balance between being sensitive and dead inside? Will I learn the secret? Does it come with time, or do you have it or not? |
posted by emily @ 12:17 AM  |
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| 2 Comments: |
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i think you've already got it.
you'll feel sad when your patients die, but you will always remember how you felt when those nurses were joking on the day that grammma died. and that will allow YOU to never be so crass and indifferent to what the families of your patients are going through.
i try to give those nurses the benefit of the doubt.... that maybe joking that day was their way of not falling apart in the event of another death.(i don't really think so, though).
i remember going to uncle ed's and aunt terry bringing out food... and all of you were eating when i thought i would throw up.and i was thinking "how can they eat? mom just died." and then uncle dennis went to the store for pop or something and brought me back lottery tickets. and i was thinking "lottery tickets? i don't want any lottery tickets now!" but all of us were dealing that day the best way that we could. aunt terry didn't know what to do, so she fed everyone. uncle den didn't know what to do, so he bought me lottery tickets.
you have a sensitivity about you, that will allow you to perfect the balance that you're looking for. there's no doubt in my mind that you've already got it... you just need to fine tune it.
love you
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I know that dealing with death take a fine emotional line for us who work in the medical field. After uncle marty read your blog, we were discussing how we could help you. With both of us in the hospital field for more that 20 years, we have had our share of patients dying. You do find a emotional space for those deaths. Yes, sometimes it comes across as crass displays to families. You can be sad/upset by their deaths but the family has the grief. I always pray 2 things: that the patient has made peace with their GOD and for the ease of the patients family grief. That grief is not yours, it is theirs. That may sound harsh but that is how to deal with so many deaths in your career. You have grief when it is one of your own family members and can not expect strangers to share the same grief that you do. We may know that they were great people with great family members, but we don't share the memories. We hope that hospital workers are the greatest but don't know how they can laugh or just go on with the next task. Unfortunately, there is always the next patient who needs our help. We can not be consumed emotionally by each death. Working trauma taught me that. Sometimes we had multiple deaths in one day. We can't stop sickness and we surely can't stop death from happening. We don't always understand it. I hope you can find the space for yo as uncle marty and I have. It didn't happen overnight. Love, aunt ang
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 - Name: emily
- Location: United States
Then I went down to the potter's house, and behold, he wrought a work on the wheels. And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter: so he made it again another vessel, as seemed good to the potter to make it.Then the word of the Lord came to me saying, O house of Israel, cannot I do with you as this potter? saith the Lord. Behold, as the clay is in the potter's hand, so are ye in mine hand, O house of Israel.
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i think you've already got it.
you'll feel sad when your patients die, but you will always remember how you felt when those nurses were joking on the day that grammma died. and that will allow YOU to never be so crass and indifferent to what the families of your patients are going through.
i try to give those nurses the benefit of the doubt.... that maybe joking that day was their way of not falling apart in the event of another death.(i don't really think so, though).
i remember going to uncle ed's and aunt terry bringing out food... and all of you were eating when i thought i would throw up.and i was thinking "how can they eat? mom just died." and then uncle dennis went to the store for pop or something and brought me back lottery tickets. and i was thinking "lottery tickets? i don't want any lottery tickets now!" but all of us were dealing that day the best way that we could. aunt terry didn't know what to do, so she fed everyone. uncle den didn't know what to do, so he bought me lottery tickets.
you have a sensitivity about you, that will allow you to perfect the balance that you're looking for. there's no doubt in my mind that you've already got it... you just need to fine tune it.
love you