When you work in a hospital; there is always the possibility of experiencing death. Even though in my position, I only interact with patients for a short period of time, I have come to think of them as "my" patients, just like the doctors and nurses do.
That happened last night. I met a family from Pennsylvania who came to North Carolina for a "dream" vacation. The "family" was a husband and wife and his sister. The sister had not had a vacation in years and worked very hard throughout her life. She always wanted to see the ocean and come to North Carolina. Her brother decided to make that happen and brought her down here to enjoy the beach, the ocean and the warm weather.
They arrived in North Carolina on Tuesday and unfortunately, his sister wasn't feeling good. By Wednesday evening, she was in the Emergency Room for treatment.
Her brother told me that this was also a "healing" visit. He and his sister had not been getting along lately and he wanted to change that.
At 67, she was alert, alive and funny. She had on a Depends diaper when the EMS crew brought her in and she joked about it. She pointed at me and told me when I got older, my day would come to be wearing these ugly, terrible things. Holy cow, I am only 4 years younger than she...when is "my day" coming???
In a matter of hours she started to decline. Her vital organs started to fail and all of a sudden, she was "tubed," meaning she was on a ventilator and not breathing for herself.
She required so much care that it was hard to get visitors back to be with her. It was many hours before her brother got back to her room and found her not responsive.
Her brother was devastated because he never got to say words to her to heal them--to make them feel better about each other and their relationship.
He told me that their last words were angry. She didn't want to come to the Emergency Room and he was adamant that she go. He said that they should have had their last words before coming to the Emergency Room. Years ago, when they were happy with each other and with their respective lives.
I told him that his last words to her were those of concern and a wish to ensure she was healthy and well and that in her last moments, I was sure she thought of that. But, I wasn't sure. I didn't know really, what she thought.
She died. She died without ever speaking to him. Without ever seeing him for one last time and seeing the tears in his eyes.
I started to think about last words. What would my last words be in this life, on this earth? I don't know. Do you? I don't know now, but I am thinking about it.
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