I don't usually write about this sort of thing on my blog. For good reason. You don't want to read it, and I don't want to relive it. Tonight was different. After my shift tonight, I feel like getting something off my chest.
I saw man die tonight. I've seen that before, a lot. But tonight a 27 year old man presented in cardiac arrest. while at home watching TV with his family he grabbed his chest and said "I think I'm having a heart attack." He collapsed and stopped breathing. Bystanders started CPR and he was brought in by EMS. I threw everything I could think of at this kid. We coded him for and hour and a half: CPR, meds, TPA. We even called down the interventional cardiologist. Nothing.
I brought the family in after 10 minutes or so. They stayed the entire time. I knew it was pointless after about 15 minutes, but I just couldn't stop. He had a tiny bit of heart movement on ultrasound. (If its not moving your chance of survival is 0%). That kept me going. He started bleeding out of his breathing tube from the TPA. His labs looked great, the best I've ever seen in a cardiac arrest. Everything was done right. But we couldn't turn it around.
His family was amazing. Mom, wife and dad at the bedside. They were composed and kept it together. You would have to drug me if that were my son or spouse on the table. They were obviously religious, and it helps me see the attraction to God. It gives you strength and explanation when your world is turned upside down. Faith seems like a small price to pay for comfort in a horrible situation like this. Of course they were crying, they were heartbroken, but they were there, for him, for themselves.
His wife looked like she was in college. Mascara was running down her face. At one point blood shot out of his ET tube onto her. She didn't even flinch. She just kept telling him how much she loved him, and how wonderful he is. I hope he heard her.
Hs mother didn't look much older than his wife. She stood there, holding his hand the entire time, except when we moved her to perform procedures.
Dad wasn't much older. He kept involved, constantly asking me what we were doing, why we were doing it, and if it was working. It wasn't. He told me how strong his son was. How athletic he was, and how much he had already been through. I listened.
In this sort of situation, I never get to meet the patient. I only know them through the family. It's amazing how much you can learn about a person, from talking with their family at their time of death.
His family couldn't stop thanking us after we stopped. You don't often get thanks for calling a time of death. But they were adamant. Honest. Sincere. I couldn't stop saying "I'm sorry" "I wish we could have done more."
Tonight was one of those times I think a lot about death. Not just others, but mine, the people I love. In a way, I think we live forever. Our daily interactions influence others. For good or bad we change people. We make our mark on the world. This 27 year old clearly made his mark on his family, on me, on everyone I meet.
Thank you for that.
3 comments:
Thanks for writing this. I do want to read it.
The last part you wrote really reminds me of Douglas Hofstadter's I Am a Strange Loop. In it, one of the smartest thinkers talks about what is a person and losing his beloved wife at the same time. It helped me too understand that I'm a distributed person - I exist in my body, but also smeared into the minds of my friends and family.
I *do* want to read it. The lot of us don't get to spend enough time together. Posts like this help bridge the gap.
Please keep sharing.
Thanks for this.
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