Nov 29, 2008 13:04
I know when death's a comin', it is a common theme in this journal. I don't, however, speak of life much. It happens, from time to time, as you well know.
I saw this lady the other day who was found in a pool of her own vomit. Two hospitals and a helicopter ride later, she was diagnosed with a massive head bleed. The usual things were done and the prognosis grim. She was good and had an advance directive in place, stating no artificial life support and feeding tubes and such.
We extubated her off the ventilator and she breathed. The other day, she managed to yank her feeding tube out* and she now tolerates spoon feedings. She is non-verbal but it almost looks like she wants to say something.
I spoke to the family and despite earlier plans palliative care, it looked like she would live longer than expected--indefinitely, really. Now we are looking into placement and perhaps even therapy, but I'm cautious.
I'm not sure where she'll go from here, but I've said it over and over again: if it's not your time, it's not your time. Color me fatalistic but you will live until your turn comes. I do.
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* i am constantly amazed how comatose/near comatose patients can perform such feats, but it happens.
notes from the field,
spark,
no fate but what we make?,
life,
letters from a slightly older doctor