My patient from yesterday was very sick. He was in a steady decline that lasted all day. Lots of vent and med changes, and we spent the last two hours of my shift getting an arterial and central venous line in, then cleaning him up. Dr. Metro had a very long, frank and compassionate talk with the parents. Lots of visitors came to see the family … the home-care nurse, family, even a female chaplain who prayed with the family. At the end of the day, I gratefully gave report to the on-coming nurse. When I was done, I told her I was going to get a drink, then I’d be back to finish up my charting. When I got back, they were coding the patient. They got him back, and he’d stabilized out by the time I was ready to leave. As I left the unit, I saw the parents and a number of relatives walking to the unit. As I approached the mother, she turned to embrace me, and started crying again. I held her tight, and gave her what comfort I could in my broken Spanish. She gave me a thankful and teary smile, then continued down the hall to the unit.
When I got in to work this morning, his name was absent from the patient list. Apparently the parents had decided, given his extremely critical condition, his long-standing history of medical problems, and bleak prognosis, to withdraw life support. He died very shortly after.
I know this sounds so very clinical. However, I applaud this particular family for making a very tough decision. They obviously loved their child very much. They were a family of faith. And they wanted what was best for their child, even if it would cause them a lot of pain. It’s not everyday that I meet with parents that have loved their child so well during their life, that they are able to let them go when the time is right.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment