バラの心
Member
- Nov 28, 2023
- 21
I think many of us who frequent this site can become desensitized to how our line of thinking differs from the norm. As a twenty-one year old pharmacy student working in oncology and end of life care, I'm constantly surrounded by difficult discussions regarding people who, despite their deep desire to continue living, must die.
Last week, I rounded with a physician to discuss goals of care with a patient who arrived in the emergency department. He is only thirty two, but has developed a metastatic cancer originating at the base of his tongue. The location of his cancer is terrible because it places pressure on his carotid artery. I will never forget seeing his mother's face as we educated her on what to do in the case that his carotid were to rupture. As we left the room, the nurse who came with us told me she had seen this happen before with her own eyes; the patient's neck blew open and blood spurted all over the ceiling, the walls, her scrubs. And there was nothing to do but hold his hand as he faded into nothing - that's literally what our hospital's guidelines say we should do if we are with a patient when this happens, because there is no saving them. The physician said it is a shocking, gory, yet painless death.
I really struggle in these emotional conversations. I have to separate myself mentally, emotionally, and metaphysically, into my pharmacy student self - the fake version of me who takes care of other people and doesn't see life as the cruelest joke. Because the real me does not understand how someone could want to fight so hard for this life, full of horror and grief. My point is that when I am at work, I see firsthand how different our ideology is from your average joe. I simply cannot understand how someone in immense, incommunicable pain has the power to fight the inevitability of death - much less want for it.
As a hospital worker, I recently had to complete our annual suicide prevention stupid ass virtual training module. Talk to someone. Talk to someone. Talk to someone. Who is going to tell these cretins that "talking to someone" isn't going to make me want to blow my brains out any less? The truth is laid bare - no one knows what to say to a suicidal person. If you bring up your suicidality to a normal person, you'd be met with pitiful awkwardness - or even disgust, as I have. But there will always be a void of misunderstanding between you and them. I, a girl who fantasizes about her death every night as she falls asleep, have crossed a bridge to a different place. I step outside, and I am hit with the realization that I am living a completely different life than the others. Constantly surrounded by death, in my mind and in my work, I find that I'm only just going through the motions anymore.
Last week, I rounded with a physician to discuss goals of care with a patient who arrived in the emergency department. He is only thirty two, but has developed a metastatic cancer originating at the base of his tongue. The location of his cancer is terrible because it places pressure on his carotid artery. I will never forget seeing his mother's face as we educated her on what to do in the case that his carotid were to rupture. As we left the room, the nurse who came with us told me she had seen this happen before with her own eyes; the patient's neck blew open and blood spurted all over the ceiling, the walls, her scrubs. And there was nothing to do but hold his hand as he faded into nothing - that's literally what our hospital's guidelines say we should do if we are with a patient when this happens, because there is no saving them. The physician said it is a shocking, gory, yet painless death.
I really struggle in these emotional conversations. I have to separate myself mentally, emotionally, and metaphysically, into my pharmacy student self - the fake version of me who takes care of other people and doesn't see life as the cruelest joke. Because the real me does not understand how someone could want to fight so hard for this life, full of horror and grief. My point is that when I am at work, I see firsthand how different our ideology is from your average joe. I simply cannot understand how someone in immense, incommunicable pain has the power to fight the inevitability of death - much less want for it.
As a hospital worker, I recently had to complete our annual suicide prevention stupid ass virtual training module. Talk to someone. Talk to someone. Talk to someone. Who is going to tell these cretins that "talking to someone" isn't going to make me want to blow my brains out any less? The truth is laid bare - no one knows what to say to a suicidal person. If you bring up your suicidality to a normal person, you'd be met with pitiful awkwardness - or even disgust, as I have. But there will always be a void of misunderstanding between you and them. I, a girl who fantasizes about her death every night as she falls asleep, have crossed a bridge to a different place. I step outside, and I am hit with the realization that I am living a completely different life than the others. Constantly surrounded by death, in my mind and in my work, I find that I'm only just going through the motions anymore.
