Easter Joys
Happy Easter, everyone!
Steve and Kris did something par-ticularly gracious for today. According to the parenting agreement, Amethyst was scheduled to be with me. But, it turns out, many holidays where I get pre-eminence for parent-time happen to fall on days I'm scheduled to work, and so the reality is that I don't get these days anyway. Our standard daddy-mommy schedule is pretty much how things fall most of the time.
Today, they invited me over to breakfast, and for an Easter-egg hunt with Amethyst. I only wish that I had kept my phone handy for a few pictures. And then, we had some nice conversation with each other on various things. It was just a good, friendly time. Like I said: I don't personally know anyone who has as great a relationship with their ex and spouse-once-removed as I do.
I'm going to have to think of something nice to do, to thank them for this. Any ideas?
In other news, one of my patients passed away at 0110 this morning. It was the bug... it just dehydrated her enough that she couldn't keep up, and neither could we, as we worked to get her to drink more and more fluids. We had a DNR order that limited what we ought to do in order to keep her here... And IVs weren't one of those things we were allowed or required to use, depending upon how you look at it.
She looked poorly enough that her family had rallied to be by her side, and then, in the phenomenon that is so common to dying people, she rallied a little on her own, began speaking again. Her family began to wonder if she really was going to die anytime soon, and went home late last night. And then, I was called down to her room by my caregivers... she had just taken her last breath, and her pulse was still going strong. She hadn't gone through any of the Cheyne-Stoking and other stuff which makes death appear so horrible to people... but she did seem to pause at the very last moment. A tiny hesitation, to look back.
"It's okay to go, Sweetie. It's time." And the powerful pulse I felt, quickly slipped away.
She had wanted to "go home" for a long time, and her family all understood this well. Her quality of life hadn't been awfully great for awhile now. And so, her children all responded with a sense of relief when I called to wake and give them the news. Their only sadness was that they weren't there to see her go... but having me there, with her, meant a lot to them. And anyway, we agreed, it isn't so much about whether you're together when they die, but more important whether you're together when you're alive. Right?
Soon, they all arrived, to be with her and to congregate together. Then, in an impromptu wake, they surrounded her for the next few hours to speak of their lives with her. Their laughter reached us down the hall, where we waited a respectful distance. And then, after they spent their emotion, they all filed out with happy faces, and many weepy eyes. If you didn't know the circumstances, you might think they'd just finished a particularly touching movie or something. Anything but losing someone dear to them, as most of us would understand it. But the things is, you see, they really did understand it.
A friend of mine was fond of saying, "There's no baggage rack on a hearse." Despite the black humor, I realize: he's right! I've had this lesson so many countless times that even I, with my slowness to learn some things, get it now. When all is said and done, there are only two things we take with us: our knowledge, and our relationships with our loved ones. And therefore, we know what our priorities in life really ought to be. Or, we ought to know!
This is one of those priveleges of my position: to be there, with someone, as they pass from this mortal coil. And, to witness families in times like this. Some beautiful like this one, and some dysfunctional. The dying process can be frightening at times, especially if you don't know what to expect. But in truth, it's like birth. It's not always so easy as it was for this little old lady, but it is also a very natural and everyday thing. Many of us don't think about it often, and don't want to. Many of us are afraid. But, the more you come to understand it? The less fear it holds.
O Death, where is thy sting?
What more appropriate day could this woman have chosen to pass on, than Easter? The celebrated day in which our Lord gave us the way to eternal life?
The quote above is from First Corinthians 15:55
Steve and Kris did something par-ticularly gracious for today. According to the parenting agreement, Amethyst was scheduled to be with me. But, it turns out, many holidays where I get pre-eminence for parent-time happen to fall on days I'm scheduled to work, and so the reality is that I don't get these days anyway. Our standard daddy-mommy schedule is pretty much how things fall most of the time.
Today, they invited me over to breakfast, and for an Easter-egg hunt with Amethyst. I only wish that I had kept my phone handy for a few pictures. And then, we had some nice conversation with each other on various things. It was just a good, friendly time. Like I said: I don't personally know anyone who has as great a relationship with their ex and spouse-once-removed as I do.
I'm going to have to think of something nice to do, to thank them for this. Any ideas?
In other news, one of my patients passed away at 0110 this morning. It was the bug... it just dehydrated her enough that she couldn't keep up, and neither could we, as we worked to get her to drink more and more fluids. We had a DNR order that limited what we ought to do in order to keep her here... And IVs weren't one of those things we were allowed or required to use, depending upon how you look at it.
She looked poorly enough that her family had rallied to be by her side, and then, in the phenomenon that is so common to dying people, she rallied a little on her own, began speaking again. Her family began to wonder if she really was going to die anytime soon, and went home late last night. And then, I was called down to her room by my caregivers... she had just taken her last breath, and her pulse was still going strong. She hadn't gone through any of the Cheyne-Stoking and other stuff which makes death appear so horrible to people... but she did seem to pause at the very last moment. A tiny hesitation, to look back.
"It's okay to go, Sweetie. It's time." And the powerful pulse I felt, quickly slipped away.
She had wanted to "go home" for a long time, and her family all understood this well. Her quality of life hadn't been awfully great for awhile now. And so, her children all responded with a sense of relief when I called to wake and give them the news. Their only sadness was that they weren't there to see her go... but having me there, with her, meant a lot to them. And anyway, we agreed, it isn't so much about whether you're together when they die, but more important whether you're together when you're alive. Right?
Soon, they all arrived, to be with her and to congregate together. Then, in an impromptu wake, they surrounded her for the next few hours to speak of their lives with her. Their laughter reached us down the hall, where we waited a respectful distance. And then, after they spent their emotion, they all filed out with happy faces, and many weepy eyes. If you didn't know the circumstances, you might think they'd just finished a particularly touching movie or something. Anything but losing someone dear to them, as most of us would understand it. But the things is, you see, they really did understand it.
A friend of mine was fond of saying, "There's no baggage rack on a hearse." Despite the black humor, I realize: he's right! I've had this lesson so many countless times that even I, with my slowness to learn some things, get it now. When all is said and done, there are only two things we take with us: our knowledge, and our relationships with our loved ones. And therefore, we know what our priorities in life really ought to be. Or, we ought to know!
This is one of those priveleges of my position: to be there, with someone, as they pass from this mortal coil. And, to witness families in times like this. Some beautiful like this one, and some dysfunctional. The dying process can be frightening at times, especially if you don't know what to expect. But in truth, it's like birth. It's not always so easy as it was for this little old lady, but it is also a very natural and everyday thing. Many of us don't think about it often, and don't want to. Many of us are afraid. But, the more you come to understand it? The less fear it holds.
O Death, where is thy sting?
What more appropriate day could this woman have chosen to pass on, than Easter? The celebrated day in which our Lord gave us the way to eternal life?
The quote above is from First Corinthians 15:55