One of my favorite patients passed away yesterday. She had been in the hospital for several months floating around to various floors depending on which organ system was acting up at the time, but one of our nurses was floating to the ICU where she was and got to be with her. I'd spent a lot of time talking with her and her husband, holding her hand, and getting completely wrapped around her finger. She was pretty sick though, and her death wasn't a huge surprise nor do I find it as depressing as I was afraid I might. I'm pretty darn sure she is in a better place and feeling a lot better than she has been. I wish I'd been able to see her husband one last time, but he was a good guy and I'm sure he'd prepared himself for this.
I'm not sure if it is just my acceptance of death as a semi-usual event in a hospital setting, or my comfort with the idea that death is not the final event of our existence that is keeping me from getting too sad about it. Still, I'll miss her wry smile.
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I imagine it's a little bit of both, Robb. There is a natural flow to the death of a chronically ill patient that seems to protect my heart from hurting. It is for the family left behind that I experience the most grief. What I have yet to experience is the unexpected death of a patient. Now I imagine that will be a whole other ballgame.
ReplyDeleteWhat a multifaceted profession we've embedded ourselves into, eh?