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 thoughts raced through my mind as I asked the Lord to bring him back to us.
"Switch!" I stepped off the bed and someone took over compressions.
The minutes dragged, but I was scared of it ending. When the physician called "Time of Death", my heart sank and I immediately pushed back tears.
It was a odd feeling as the room drew quiet and the 12 people diminished to 3. Reverently, we cleaned the man up and placed him in a bag. We collected his belongings and prepared him so that any available family could say their goodbyes.
And then it was over.
I returned my area and tried to continue my day. I knew there were other patients that needed my help, but my soul was weary. I fought as hard as I could, but the tears squeezed themselves out and rolled down my cheeks. I escaped to the back room. Exhausted, I quit trying to stop them as I cried over the loss of a precious human being.
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I didn't expect it to happen that day. I didn't think that walking into to work that morning, I would leave having faced my biggest fear as a new nurse. ..But it did, and though only 3 months in, it's happened several times since.
In some ways I feel selfish for crying. How do you mourn for a man or woman you don't even know? Am I grieving for the individual? Or am I crying because it's hard for me?
Being an Emergency Department nurse at a level 1 Trauma center is hard. Death is prevalent and inevitable. Although my work can be full of joy and healing and I am constantly thankful for my job, sometimes seeing a lifeless body is the only thing I remember after a 13 hour day of work. On those days I get in my car and I sit there in silence. I give myself a moment of sorrow and debriefing, and then I turn up the radio and I worship the Lord.
Oh Jesus, come soon.
Though You slay me
Yet I will praise You
Though You take from me
I will bless Your name
Though You ruin me
Still I will worship
Sing a song to the One who's all I need.
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