you may remember my blog posts earlier about a certain special woman. i honestly think she is the first patient i have gotten attached to. everyone says this will happen working in oncology. i knew it would sooner or later. i don't think i was prepared to become attached to her family as well.
when i came into work sunday night, i was assigned this patient. she has had multiple myeloma and 2 bone marrow transplants in the process. in the last week, she has taken a turn for the worst. she had been changed to a category 5, which means nothing more can be done for her. this is the patient and family's choice; not the medical staff or nurses. all i could do was keep her comfortable and give her morphine for her pain. she was completely unresponsive and breathing about 6 breaths per minute (normal is 12-20). it was only a matter of time. i knew this would happen eventually, but that didn't make it any easier. i had spent many nights talking to this woman in my spare time. she often couldn't sleep due to her pain.
it's really not something i can explain; being in a room with a family as someone they love so much is dying. they sang her favorite hymns, prayed, told their favorite stories and memories of her, and told her, although it was hard, it was okay for her to go. i cannot put into words what it is like to see a husband of 40+ years sit by his wife's bedside, holding her hand and whispering how much he loves her in her ear. it was such an intimate moment that it almost felt intrusive. but the family all hugged me and wanted me near. i felt so honored to be a part of someone so special's life. i wished i could do more; but i could feel God's peace in the room.
she was still, unbelievably, hanging on tuesday morning when i left; only breathing 4 breaths per minute. she is such a tough woman. i'm glad i didn't have to be there when she passed. my last memory of her will be one of peace; the kind of peace only God can provide in times like this.
to leave you on a brighter note: one of my other patients helped to remind me that nothing is impossible for God and miracles really still do happen.
this man was also a category 5, just sent down to our floor from icu where he had been on a vent for 2 1/2 weeks. they gave him less than 48 hours to live when he arrived sunday afternoon. guess what? when i left tuesday morning, he was still there :)
this man was not a cancer patient, but he did come in with respiratory failure. he was also unresponsive sunday night when i arrived, but as time went on he began to change. he opened his eyes. by monday morning he was able to nod his head in response to questions. monday night they changed him to a category 3, which means he can have treatments. when i came back he gave me a huge smile when i walked in. it was amazing. with his daughter's help, he began to take small sips of water and broth through a dropper, and even ate some ice cream! tuesday morning he was talking. it's hard to explain how unbelievable this is, but trust me, it is incredible. but the best part is still to come.
the patient's daughter told me that at the exact moment that he began to nod his head in response to questions, she had gotten a phone call from her church. they had a group of people gathered praying for him right then! now if that doesn't make you believe in prayer, nothing will. wow.
i can't explain really how i felt leaving tuesday morning. my heart was broken for my sweet lady's family, especially her husband who loves her so much. it helped to remind me how important family is. they are priceless. you can never replace them. i remember my mom always telling me that your family are the people who know you the best and love you the most. they see all the ugly sides of you, but somehow still love you. kind of like how God continues to love me despite all my many, many shortcomings. that's freeing.
my other patient reminded me that prayer is real and potently powerful. He is in control and always knows our hearts. He cares about us more than we will ever know. he doesn't write us off because our situation seems impossible or too far passed fixing. He is our healer and comfort, our almighty strength and rock. miracles do happen. i know i saw one happen before my eyes. they happen every day, but most of us, myself included, are just too busy to notice.
