Journey's End

My first patient passed away on me this past Thursday, February 8th, 2007. It was an event that I hoped might never come. I don't mean to say that I'm afraid of death, but more that I knew it wouldn't be easy for me nor the patient's loved ones.

I was honored to care for someone who was well-loved and, from what I hear, was a very nice man. By the time we received the patient, at the beginning of the shift, plans were under way for him to moved home in hospice care. Hospice care is basically end-of-life care. No curative measures or life-prolonging treatments are given.

Around 3pm, the patient's heart began to slow down to 42 bpm. We went into the room to see the patient. He had been unresponsive for the majority of the day, partially due to the pain medicine we gave and partially due to his multi-system organ failure. The wife was there and my nurse told her that she might want to stay; she was planning on leaving. About fifteen minutes later the heart rate was down into the 20s. Fifteen more minutes and he passed away, his hand being held by his wife of almost 60 years with her telling him how much she loved him. It was really hard to watch, but at the same time I had so much joy because he was loved and didn't die alone.

Later that night when I got home I told Shannon all about it. As I was trying to process the death, I realized how much I fear dying alone. I was so happy to see that he wasn't alone in some hospital room with a million tubes coming from his body. Shannon and just held each other for while, silent. We thanked God for the relationship that He's given us and the new life growing inside Shannon's belly.

When the patient passed two other nurses had to come into the room to pronounce death. Then the physician was notified, orders were received and paperwork was filled out. The family came to see their patriarch. And I continued caring for my other two patients. It was probably the most difficult day I ever experienced. I longed so much to be in the room with them. I didn't want to go back to work and let such an important moment go by. I wanted to honor this man who I'd heard only seven words from my entire life. I'd only known of him for eight hours, but he was still a creation of God, subject to the curse of death. I wanted to mourn his passing. Yet I did my job. I knew it was what I had to do and what was best. The other patients needed medications and I had to finish writing notes.

I don't know why, but I felt like that was one of the times I'd been closest to God, both physically and spiritually. As he died his soul left his body was either bid welcome or denied entrance to Heaven. God was in that room in a different way than in our every day to day life. It was an honor to be there as one more soul came to its journey's end.