I have a personal theory about painfully ill people on their deathbed. That is, they seem to have a burst of energy right before they die. It's weird to witness it first-hand because you're there thinking, is this chronically-ill patient really getting better or is his death just ticking soon? I don't know about other nurses, but experiencing this scenario more than once made me a believer of one last chance.
As a Christian, I believe that there is life after death. And these things, as I see it, are moments worthy to be cherished. I have this patient before, let's just call her 1; she deteriorated as soon as she talked to her family. Hours before that, she could barely speak, and open her eyes. It's only minutes when she opened her eyes, conversed with her family, then eventually died. Minutes. Maybe it's a rush of hormones. A gush of adrenaline high. Like when you watch fireworks during 4th of July and the biggest and most stunning display marks the end of it. Who knows?
Maybe it's a rush of hormones. A gush of adrenaline high. Like when you watch fireworks during 4th of July and the biggest and most stunning display marks the end of it.
There's another one that I can recall. He doesn't have any family nor friends. Just us. Nurses, and other healthcare team. He wasn't even seen by the doctor when he passed away. I can remember him packing his things, washing his face, and telling everybody that he's ready for whatever procedure we're going to do to him. There was none, actually. He was suffering from sundowners, so we just ignored his actions. Around midnight, he died in his sleep. Peacefully. Like everything he did that day were for that last hour. I mean, if you know your time of death, you'd want to clean yourself right?
His story is actually familiar with my grandma's. My grandma's death was unexpected. One day, she was just taking a shower, slipped, hit her head on the floor then died because of the impact. That part was excruciating for us especially because we weren't there when she died. I was at school, and my parents were abroad. That week, though, was exceptionally weird. She kept telling us that she dreamt of grandpa, telling her to come with him. Backstory: My grandpa died while on sail. Gone after a typhoon hit the island, assumed dead afterwards. So her telling us her dream was kind of odd. One, because the dream is odd. And two, she doesn't really share her dream. She even mentioned that she dreamt of my dead cousin, too! Could you believe that? It's creepy, and at the same time, reassuring. I was at peace knowing that maybe, just maybe, they are already having a reunion over there.
Let's face it. We won't really know when our time will come. But until then, let's do the things we really want to do, and hope that before our last deed on earth, we did something worth living.