I can't stop thinking about the pt I had last night. End stage CA, doc thinks it will be any day. This pt is afraid to die. He didn't want to talk to the chaplain, but I had time in the early hrs, and I sat down with him for a while.
I work in an inner city hospital, and while I did not grow up wealthy, I had a loving family and was always cared for. Many of my pts are not so lucky. This man grew up with an alcoholic mother who beat and neglected him, and then died when he was only 11. He told me how he used to steal in order to eat and take care of his siblings, and how guilty he feels because he knows right from wrong. He said he felt unloved and disrespected for as long as he can remember. No one visits, no one will be with him when he dies.
He's not ready to die because he feels like he never really lived. He's only 41.
I couldn't think of anything profound to say, so I just listened. I wish I could have thought of something comforting to say.
