Dealing with death in the medical field

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Any medical staff, doctors, nurses, ministers of the sick, etc…
How do you deal with and process a death of someone you treated or helped?
I have been so heartbroken over Alfie Evans passing away, but I can only imagine how much more painful it must be when you actually know the people, especially children.
As Catholics we know that there is eternal life after death for those who love God, and maybe this is just a test of the strength of our faith, but how do all of you really strengthen your faith in these times when you feel so weak and helpless.
 
Our lives are not our own. They all belong to God and are in his care. Degenerative brain disease, among others, are natural aspects of this life. I attended the death today of a very good friend. She was 83. A few weeks ago another friend in his 30’s committed suicide. It is all in God’s hands. We can only accept and provide as much help as we can.
 
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Former pediatric nurse. Usually I was able to take comfort in the belief that these children went to heaven. Most who died were very sick and suffering for a while before they died, so sometimes it was a relief to think of them without pain. I did my best to care for them, but we can’t fix everybody. That takes a toll on people, emotionally.
 
I worked oncology as an RN for seven, almost eight years, at two different tertiary-level, academic medical referral centers - one a nationally ranked and well known civilian facility, and one rather well known military one (well, technically two military ones, but the two consolidated while I was working there, and our unit moved as an intact entity).

I can sit here and still name patients and room numbers and tell you how so many people left this earth that sometimes it scares me. While I miss oncology I’m amazed at the people who work in that field their entire careers.

My dad flew medevac in Korea and Vietnam with the US Navy. I grew up with stories of him caring for the dead and dying - it never scared me, it amazed me what he’d done and what he’d seen (when he’d talk about it, which was as you can imagine kind of rare). I sat with him until he breathed his last breath on the day he died. He was the first person I watched die like that. And oddly enough it didn’t scare me. I had thought it would.

I dealt with death by never bringing it home. It used to make my husband mad when my answer to the question “how was your night (or day)” was “it was fine”…until I finally answered him truthfully one morning with all that had happened to delay me for two hours from the previous night’s shift. (The next morning he met me at the door with a margarita - it was my last shift before my six day break, and the previous three nights had been brutal. He understood then.) My dad had taught me (and growing up with an “old” family - I had cousins the same age as my dad as a kid - also taught me) that death was part of life.

In one shift once I lost two patients - one expected and one unexpected. Rooms 9307 and 9310. I remember both faces and one name. That was almost ten years ago.

No, I’m not numb. LOL I’m far from it. I’ve stepped out of rooms because I needed a minute to get myself together. I’ve taken deep breaths before opening the door to the room. Every one of those patients (and families), including my dad, taught me something - about death, life, God, my career. They let me learn from them, and I consider that an honor.
 
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May God bless you for your amazing work in the medical field and testimony to grace when death arrives. May your Dad rest in peace as well as the patients you cared for.

My own daughter is now in medical school and I hope she can learn to deal with death as gracefully as you have.

God bless.
 
Thank you.

Tell her that it’s okay to remember patients and it’s okay to grieve with families. I’ve done that. But what my dad taught me was you still have to remain somewhat “away” from the center of it because it’s not ‘your’ death. It’s the family of the patient’s and that patient’s death. I’m far from hard hearted, and my colleagues knew that - but I also knew it was part of what I’d chosen to do.

I’ve been to a couple of funerals - we had patients long-term on the bone marrow transplant unit, and we knew them very well. But it wasn’t a habit for me.

Also wanted to add that the morning my husband met me with a margarita I learned how to share without overwhelming him so he didn’t feel shut out and I myself didn’t get loaded up in emotions. So we both learned a little something.

If she’s a primary care provider with a long-term relationship with her patients, it can get more personal for her, but it’s not impossible, either. She has wonderful and challenging work ahead of her, and I’ll remember her in prayer.
 
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The stark reality is that people die. You see them, treat them or minister to them, but you know that they are not going to live. They die, as if it is a certainty and you could time it. Thus there is so much sadness and compassion when you deal with the sick and the terminally ill, because you know the prognosis.

As believers, we are comforted because death is just a next phase but an eternal one. We are confident that the Lord has prepared us a room in His Father’s house. We know that eternal life offers much better thing than we can ever imagine. Thus, for us, death loses its sting. To us we celebrate death because it is a victory.

But while alive, we have to have faith and live according to whatever it takes.
 
I see the deathbed as a sacred space.
Hospice is a sacred privilege.
I pray the divine mercy chapter in my head while giving care.
I don’t allow any chatty co-workers in with me during care.
When they die, I pray the “eternal rest” prayer while I’m giving post mortem care.
I figure God allowed me to be there for a reason.
 
Thank you for sharing your experiences and prayers for my daughter. God bless.
 
joyful said:
Any medical staff, doctors, nurses, ministers of the sick, etc…
How do you deal with and process a death of someone you treated or helped?
I have been so heartbroken over Alfie Evans passing away, but I can only imagine how much more painful it must be when you actually know the people, especially children.
As Catholics we know that there is eternal life after death for those who love God, and maybe this is just a test of the strength of our faith, but how do all of you really strengthen your faith in these times when you feel so weak and helpless.
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I was a Paramedic for years…all I can really say is you have to have the ability to separate yourself from the sadness of a person dying.
Not everybody can, it is a hard fact. They are not weaker, or inferior…I sometimes think they are better off.

It eats some folks up…and I will say for those who have no “spiritual” relationship with God, it is doubly so.
Some try and deal with it through the usual vices, some let it eat them like a cancer till it explodes on those around them. Some simply self destruct.

I say this to bring home the point about faith…I believe in God…

I believe in God, the Father Almighty,
Creator of heaven and earth; and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord;
Who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried.
He descended into hell; the third day He arose again from the dead.
He ascended into heaven, and sits at the right hand of God, the Father Almighty; from thence He shall come to judge the living and the dead.
I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of Saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and life everlasting. Amen.

Because I believe these things it has made it easier for me to minister to the sick and dying and to deal with the inevitable consequences of this here mortal coil…

I do not know if this helps, but it has helped me…many a shift I would just sit and pray, pray the Our Father, pray as the aircraft rolled, or the truck was on the move…before I got to the call and after…when I was scared or afraid I would not be able to handle the call…or when I was tending to the the husband or wife of a couple that had been married 50 or 60 years…seeing the sadness in their eyes, feeling their heart break…or watching the tears of the parent as I tried my best with their precious child…

And even after all this time I am still haunted every so often…especially the children and other ones that stick out in my memory…

When those nightmares or thoughts pop up…I have learned what to do…

I Believe…

He has been very gracious to me…

M
 
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The kids stick with you the most. Doing EMS in a town as small as mine, you know nearly every patient you treat. It’s an added dimension.
 
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