Patients as Teachers

Patients are often my best teachers. Many years ago, as a young idealistic nurse, a 40 year old  man named Richard taught me more than any professor could have about embracing mortality.  He was admitted to the neurology unit for diagnostic tests due to persistent, but vague symptoms.  During the night shift prior to his exam he asked me to call a priest before he was taken to the operating room. 

He explained to the priest and me that he felt he was going to die from the procedure.  We tried to reassure him, but he calmly said "I want to be prepared to face the music".  He talked about how hard it would be for his family, that he didn't want to leave them, but he just had a gut-level feeling that he couldn't ignore.

During the procedure a massive brain tumor was diagnosed, requiring emergency surgery.  He died several weeks later, at the start of my night shift. He never fully regained consciousness.

I wrote the following poem shortly after his death and have continued to be influenced by the lesson I learned from him: listen to the message--no matter where you think it comes from. 

When we face the fact that we will die, instead of avoid admitting that, we can learn more about our lives and  that can allow us opportunities to prepare ourselves and others.


Music


The night before surgery
You told me
My heart knows I need to
To face the music


Life just unfolding
Wife and kids
Hopes and dreams
Music to your ears


I am a new nurse
A young bride
Dreaming of longevity
And happy endings


Now you are dying
You know and I know
Though we speak
without words


I want to run
Not death, not now
Not like this
I am not ready 


Hand in hand
Death claims you
The warmth of your hand
Lingers on mine


I have not broken news like this before
Your family arrives
Our tears flow
I no longer want to run