I will never forget his name. The first one. The first man that died on my watch, under my care. I knew it was coming. I knew that working in the ER, it would be only a matter of time before it happened. Nonetheless, I dreaded the inevitable. The day was chaotic and I was overwhelmed. As a baby nurse, those feelings were not uncommon for me as I ran around trying to play catch up before the next wave of crazy hit. And then it happened. With little warning, I found myself gowned and gloved and attempting to do quality CPR on an individual that had just moments before been a stranger. "You need to go deeper and faster!", someone yelled. I was breathing hard, and my arms felt weak. I was frantically trying to do compressions to the ironic beat of the tune "ahh ahh ahh ahh staying alive, staying alive". I couldn't look him in the face. I didn't want to make it more real, more personal. Had it not been 2 minutes? How was I already so exhausted? Countless
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say, It is well, it is well, with my soul.