I've been in the medical field for going on 31 years this fall. From the day I stepped foot into this career, I have witnessed death. My mother can vouch for me, she worked in the hospital where I first began in 1978. The very first day I worked as a Respiratory Therapist, I watched my coworkers code a 16 year old boy and he died. I saw my first death. My second day on the job, I was made to watch the autopsy performed on this young man. I remember a supervisor telling me, "nothing could be any worse, so if you can make it through this, you can make it through anything." And so began my career in medicine. I have seen worse and I have witnessed miracles. Both the miracle of life and the miracle of death.
I've been in countless emergency situations and have had to watch as someone told the family "we did all we could do, but they didn't make it". I always cried, if not outwardly, I had tears inside for what they must be feeling. And I wanted to help.
Then my career path turned and I became a nurse. I was able to get closer and provide one on one care as "my" patient struggled with illness, faced death, and eventually crossed over to their reward. I considered it an honor to be able to care for, stroke a whisp of hair back or provide a cool cloth in these times to the one entrusted to me, their nurse.
I am totally unbiased as to what kind of a parent they were, or friend or foe. All I know is the last remaining moments were in my hands. How would I treat them when no one was looking and how would I help them make this transition. Did they know I was there? Did they feel that cool cloth or gentle stroke in their hair? I don't know, but God does and so do the souls departed.
I had the most fortunate experience to be at my own fathers side when he passed away 5 years ago. I said it then at his funeral as I will say it now, there is no greater honor for me, than to escort a loved one to heaven.
I have had the priviledge and responsibility to provide end of life care for an elder here on the island. For the 2 months I've been here, I have come and gone from this home, first as a outsider, then as a caretaker and nurse, and now today as their friend and support. They have literally fed me, encouraged me, thanked me profusely and I have never been so proud to be a nurse as I was this last week. From a simple bed bath, to showing the family how to use a draw sheet, I was able to teach them the art of nursing and caring in one role.
There are no coroners here on the island, so today, I became one. There are no funeral directors here on the island, so today I learned that role, too. And here, there are only friends and family that care for and prepare the body, and today I was allowed to do this, as well.
To some, this is morbid, to me it is my life; to serve and to care for those in need in whatever way I can.
I am a nurse.
