This past week that I've worked, we have withdrawn care on 5 patients that I have cared for. Withdrawing care means "pull the plug" or "comfort measures". Most patients we withdraw on are intubated with a machine called a ventilator to help them breathe and heavily medicated with drugs called vasopressors to keep their heart beating. When we withdraw, we take out all unecessary tubes and machines and turn off IV medications with the exception of pain medications. And then within minutes, hours, or sometimes days our patient dies.
Today I was reminded of the beauty that can be seen in my profession. The older woman I was caring for was admitted for a stroke. It messed with her memory quite a bit. She was blind and hard of hearing. Her granddaughter flew in from Europe to see her. They hadn't seen each other in two years.
I walked the woman to the waiting room with her walker, and helped her into a comfortable position. The woman's daughter smiled and cried as she explained to the woman that she had special visitors. Then the granddaughter spoke. "It's me, Grandma."
The woman's face lit up, and she reached up to cup her grandaughter's face in her hands. She knew her granddaughter. It was like a spark lit inside of her and she had become the woman she was before; sharp, witty, and ever so lovely. I want to remember that feeling. The feeling of coming home. The happy tears that can be shed as a nurse as opposed to the sorrowful ones with tender goodbyes and good intentions.
It felt good to do good and to be a part of such a heart warming moment. My heart grew today. It grows every day. But today it grew just a little bit more.
No comments:
Post a Comment