Death

Death has always intrigued me. I wonder what it is like to go on the other of life…but more importantly, it cuts through my heart to see the people that you leave behind…the crying and all can be managed…but the hidden feelings, the pain, the unhappiness felt can’t even be measured.

I have seen relatives crying aloud in groups in the corridors of Sassoon. Initially it was unsettling. But, soon I got used to it. There are things you can’t do anything about. And death is one of them. Yesterday, however, I went back to being unsettled again.

I have wondered for a long time, what I would go through if I lose a patient. A patient under your care surrenders his life to you. That is a huge responsibility. Losing that life would make me so guilty…in fact, a lot of times, I’ve decided on not taking up braches that involve life and death…I don’t think I would be able to live with the thought of not being able to prevent death. Yesterday, the event unfolding before me and my emotions during that time, proved to me that I still haven’t strengthened my mind to face serious situations in the future.

On Friday, a friend and I were examining a patient of Alcoholic Liver Disease. On the bed next to him, was a young patient. He was asleep when his father started to wake him up. He did not wake up…his father slapped his face a few times, but when there wasn’t any response, he went and called the doctor in-charge. They managed to get the patient to wake up. I was a little scared that they might lose the patient, but he was breathing the whole time, so I was sure he was hanging on. Yesterday when the same events repeated, there was no respiratory movement and know response…the patient got an infarction in front of our eyes and the doctors couldn’t do anything to save him. They tried CPR but couldn’t do much…he expired…

The whole time, his father was standing at the side, expressionless. When he was told that his son hadn’t made it, he tried making a few calls. His face looked a bag full of suppressed emotions as he tried to deal with the problem of range for his cellphone. Looking at the way he was walking around and trying to remain calm, I wished he’d had one more person to manage him. After taking the help of the people around him, he managed to let his relatives know, I guess...That done, he sat on his son’s bed. And he just stared at that face. Then, he took his son’s head in his lap and brushed his fingers through his son’s hair. A lot of times.

That was when it happened. There was a change of expression…a glimpse of the actual pain he was going through. He kept staring at that pale face, kept running his fingers through those hair…with speed that showed his intent at wanting to get his son back. It was so painful to watch him like that. Helpless, broken, lost. I wanted to go and give him a hug. I wanted to tell him it was ok to cry and that he should. But, all I could do was stand at a distance.

It hurts so much to think of some person you know, as dead…a friend of mine expired in an accident 4 years back. She wasn’t a very close friend, but the shock and pain I had felt at that time, makes me uncomfortable even today. I still care and still wish she was around with us. If that is what acquaintances feel about the dead, how would the relatives feel? How would parents feel holding their children’s bodies in their hands; the same hands that had held those children when they were born, the same hands that had held their children’s hands as they took their first steps…the dreams, the beautiful pictures painted suddenly come crashing down and all you stare at is that white face. You want to do anything to bring them back, even sacrifice yourself if it would bring them back. But, you just sit there, crying to yourself…trying to move on, but not being able to get rid of those memories.

And this is where I think, should I, as a doctor, be so sentimental about death? This wasn’t even my patient, or a patient I’d talked to. But, I still felt it. Wouldn’t it be worse if a patient under my care lost his battle? Apart from feeling guilty, I would keep thinking about the effects of that death on the rest of his family. This will only increase my own guilt. In my sensitive side’s defence though, I can only say : It takes time to get used to something, or to find a way to get used to it. And where Medicine is concerned, failures are more serious than failures anywhere else.

Food for thought, I guess…