Death Desensitization

As you can imagine being in a hospital you are around death ALL the TIME! People die, people are born and some of us are just caught in the mix somewhere between. As of now, none of my patients have died on me, but I have seen some of the other patients on the floor die. Recently, I had an experience that struck a cord with me. It made me very upset.

All of our patients are hooked up to tele monitors (heart monitors that track how fast/slow their hearts are beating and determines whether or not its in a normal rhythm). We have a technician and his job it to look at a computer screen and evaluate heart rhythms. Anyways, I was sitting with him looking to see how my patients were tracing and I noticed that one of the patients was starting to decline. A normal heart rate is between 60-100 beats per minute. This guy had gone down to 42 and the technician asked me to go find his nurse and to inform her what was going on. I eventually found her, gave her the 411 and she rushed into the room to look at the screen. By this time his heart rate had hit the low 30's. Come to find out he had a DNR order (do not resuscitate) and you'll find this with a lot of patients who are chronically ill or who are far too sick and understand the importance of quality over quantity when it comes to your life. Regardless, she's sitting in the room with us and his heart rate is going down by the minute and I am waiting to see if she'll go in the room with him. I'm itching in my shoes because I am a firm believer that no one should die alone! We don't come into this world alone and we shouldn't leave alone either. I was about to leave and head to his room, but being a new nurse I felt as though I would be stepping on her toes (which I regret now). Even if its a simple touch of the hand or caressing ones forehead, be there with the person. Eventually, he got down to zero and was pronounced dead and she looked at us and made the comment 'How cool, I've never seen someone bottom out that fast!' and this comment was followed up with a smile and a small chuckle.

I've had people tell me that I need to toughen up or grow extra skin, but I choose to think differently. I know you can't lose it every single time a patient dies, but viewing it as a joke or even 'cool' is absolutely beyond me. If it was your mother or father it wouldn't be so 'cool', so why does this scenario make it any different? When someone on our floor dies it makes me reflect on my own life and that my time is eventually coming. My hope is that I never reach the point where I become desensitized like many other nurses and doctors I've seen.


Peace, Love and ever-lasting happiness to all!
BMWomyn

G-Mama

Life. If we're brought into it then surely we will have to leave it. My sweety pie Granny, or as we sometimes call her G-mama, has been ill for the past several months. She's in hospice and has been declining very rapidly. I have never seen someone slowly die, especially not a loved one. I was sitting with her one day and I thought to myself life is a full circle. We leave the same exact way we came in, totally dependent on others for our basic needs. On a physiological standpoint (Yep, you know I had to throw nursing into this!) your body regresses and begins to shut down. Your body is literally shutting down system by system. Your oxygen levels go down, which results in your limbs (feet and hands) becoming discolored. She is in this state. The shut down state. Knowing that she has been sick and that she has lived a beautiful life has allowed me to come to terms with her impeding death. Certainly it doesn't make it easier, I wish I had more time with her! I'm sure if she lived for 500 more years I would still want more time, right? The only issue that I have problems coming to terms with is that when she dies we'll only have memories, nothing tangible. Maybe a comb she used to use, or her favorite chair in the living room corner but her absence makes those things pointless. It's just going to be an empty space, a comb that should have freshly combed gray hair in it and a chair that looks far too empty.

She's lived in her home for over 50 years. My Allah, that is a long time! People back in her generation bought homes and stayed in them, not like today where we make major moves a couple times during our lifetime. To think that she won't be there when I stop by to visit is absolutely beyond me! We all associate places with people, and that home is her place. My point of this post is not to talk about my G-mama and her death, but to bring up a related thought.

My grandmother has served as a link between me and my African American identity. As I've mentioned before I've been exposed to many different cultures. The older I get the more I have realized that I associate best with my African American side, but don't fit in very well. My grandmother grounded me and her presence was always a reminder that I am a descendant of strong Black women and to be proud of my African roots. You might be thinking 'Well didn't your mother do that?'. To a certain extent yes, but growing up in a multi-ethnic household we had a mix of everything going on. I certainly didn't feel Sudanese due to the fact that I didn't have a relationship with my father and culturally I felt a tad bit Turkish (due in part to my Stepdad raising me and my younger half-Turkish sisters), but again I didn't fit in either. The older I get I realize she was the grounding force behind me developing my identity. So her death has made me feel as though a part of my identity is dying right along with her. Isn't it interesting how you have these sudden epiphanies?



May Allah forgive you and all of us for our sins and make the judgement in the grave an easy one. I pray that your grave is spacious and filled with light and most of all that you are reunited with Grandpa because I know your heart has longed for him something great. Rest well Grandma and I'll see you later. Love you lots!

Peace, Love and ever-lasting happiness to all!
BMWomyn