Source: www.baltimorefishbowl.com
This morning, I saw a picture of an emergency & trauma doctor kneeling at the hospital curb grieving the death of 19 year old patient. It made me stop. It reminded me all those times that I too could not save a life.
As an internal medicine doctor – I see death often. Usually, they were the sick or the old – often combination of both. But – sometimes, you see younger ones succumbing to things like aortic dissection or heart attacks. Young girls dying from sudden asthma attacks. Rarely – you chance upon unexplained cases – where young people who just yesterday walking, running and talking to you – suddenly collapse and die. These cases were the ones you would work on them – continuously resuscitating and going far longer than you usually do.
But then – the moment comes that you have to stop. You take a deep breath and step out of the curtained area. You asked one of the family members to get the parents or guardians. You ask them to sit down as you slowly explain that their worst nightmare have just come true. It breaks you inside to be the one breaking this news.
This deep hurt.
Doctors rarely talk about it. All these emotions you hold inside. Some doctors try to shield themselves from this feeling. That is why you can see some doctors who would insist not to attach themselves to patients. I try not to sometimes but most of the time you just can’t.
Every death I met – I would be reminded of this case I had when I was a house officer. This lady – had heart and kidney failure. She was in her thirties but looked far older. The diseases aged her. She has a daughter who were not much younger than I was.
Somehow, I always ended up taking care of her – despite changing teams and wards. I was doing my cardiac care unit rotation when I saw her last. She had severe infection and her heart was failing. That day – her heart stops and I was the one resuscitating with the CCU nurses.
They didn’t managed to call her husband. Only her daughter was there. I just step out of the unit and looked at her . Somehow – no words escape me. She stood there and somehow understood. “ Kak – mak dah tak ada?”
We ended up crying in each other embrace . That was the last time I saw her. I can’t remember her name. I doubt that she remember me. I hoped that she had a good life since then.
Another death that I remember much was an elderly man. The death was expected though – the man had end stage liver failure. His wife never leave his side. He was on life support for days. It is just a matter of time.
His wife asked me what my honest opinion about his chances. I told her my honest thoughts. She was heart-broken.
I told her also that she needs to take care of herself. Perhaps, he have not left because she was not ready yet to let go. She told me how could she.
Being a doctor – it is hard to emphathise with patients but more often it is harder not to.
I really did believe this much is true.
Both of us were from different race and religion. Yet, in death we are the same. I told her in Islam, in death, people do not go away. They get to be closer to God. Surely that’s what her husband wished.
I always pray that lady would find her peace. I met her again a few months later. She appeared happier. I wish her well.
Encounters like these reminds me why I stay being a doctor in the first place. For me, it reminds me on how to be human.
Being a doctor… you are reminded that death is certain. The world is temporary.
So, live your life fully.
Dr. Nur Hidayati is in training to be an internal medicine specialist with special interest in infectious disease and nephrology. She is a permanent columnist for the Malaysian Medical Gazette. Learn more about her on The Team page.
This is the personal opinion of the writer and does not necessarily represent the views of The Malaysian Medical Gazette.
[This article belongs to The Malaysian Medical Gazette. Any republication (online or offline) without written permission from The Malaysian Medical Gazette is prohibited.]