Su Lives..
There is a lot more death in medicine than I thought there would be. I guess I never really acknowledged that people MUST eventually die. I had my most confronting experience with death earlier this term. A patient who, in some ways reminded me of my father (but in reality is nothing like) - is dying. Not actuely, but in the long term, his odds aren't looking so good.
When I found out, I couldn't believe it. My thoughts were racing at a hundred to one. 'People come to hospitals to get better, he can't be dying' and similar thoughts went rushing through my head. My adrenaline was pumping and I was terrified, for him, for myself (I'm not really sure I could separate the feeling).
When I went to see him, he was more calm about it all than I was - he sat me down and matter-of-factly said to me "Listen doc, I know I'm dying... just tell me, how long to I have? Hours? Days? Months?"
I didn't have an answer for him. Not then, not immediately. It was my second day on the acute medicine job.
He didn't die, and as of today hasn't yet. He made a slow, minor recovery from his acute hurdle and went home, at the same level of function that he was prior to admission. Which for me, was a small miracle. A blessing sign.
It restored my faith in what I am doing for people. We can't cure, we can't prevent death, but we can manage disease.
There have been several deaths on the ward since. Patients who were at the end of their life. Its hard to swallow as a whole, but thanks to that one man, and those that have followed after him, those that make it home, I love my job with a ferocity I never would have thought possible.
And I'm still standing. I have no idea where my thoughts will be in another few months... hopefully I'll manage to get some of it written down. All my love

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