All we could do?

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It was supposed to be easy, but these things never are. When I entered the house, from downstairs I could hear the fluid in her lungs. The patient was dying. The family, initially prepared for this event, had been enduring her tortured breathing for an hour now, unsure of what to do.
The daughter, who could legally decide, didn't want her transported, and only really wanted her to be comfortable, nothing invasive. I was at a bit of a loss as to what to do. Lasix would only delay the inevitable and what she really needed was intubation, among other things. With a pulse in the 40s I tried to explain to the family that it was quite serious. I realized we were treating them more so than the patient, they only wanted to know that she wasn't in pain. So, we gave her oxygen and I attempted a line, but the lighting was terrible and she had no veins. I found myself able to think about nothing other than how horrible the situation was. Midway though my IV attempt, my partner leaned over to me and said "I think she stopped breathing." I felt sad relief come over me as I realized just how quiet the room had become and felt for a pulse, there was none. Like me, the family had not yet realized what had happened, and I had to tell them.
I was glad that the patient got what any of us would have wanted. To die at home, surrounded by family and friends. I just wish I hadn’t been there too.

Comments

Slack said…
Yikes... they teach you about being there after... but during, that's a tough call.
11 September, 2006
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