Be My Friend at the End

Dancer3

It was exciting to work on a busy medical-surgical floor. Although I was occasionally overwhelmed, I can honestly say that I was never bored. After I became confident in administering physical treatments, starting IVs, placing foleys, and so forth, I realized that the greatest difficulty was handling complex family situations. Sometimes it seems that as I walked into the room, a certain family member consciously or sub-consciously deemed me the one they would unleash all of their anger upon.

I remember entering a room once when the physician was exiting.

He looked at me and said, "Don't worry. They have already taken everything out on me."

One particular patient and family situation is imprinted forever into my soul. Each time I entered the room to check the n/g tube or answer the call light, the patient seemed tense. At all times, her family was present. Once I patted her hand and asked if there was anything she needed or if there was anything she wanted to talk about.

She smiled and began to say that she knew she was very ill but that her family would not let her talk about it. Three family members were present and immediately came to her side to tell her to be quiet that she would get well and go home. When she did not look at them but spoke only to me, they asked me to leave. I did so. I think that confronted with a similar situation now I would stay and at least try to talk with the family about the patient's needs.

The next day she called me to her room. Her family had left to eat breakfast. I pulled up a chair to sit down beside her and took her hand. She immediately began telling me that she was dying and knew it but that her family would not let her talk about it.

She said she did not have anyone else she could talk to and would I please listen. I assured her that I would listen. She told me she wished she had done certain things in her life instead of just been a caretaker.

She had lived a life to please others and told me of things she wished she had done regarding trips, sailing, and completing her education. She expressed anger that her family would not step in to be with her in a real way as she faced death, but added that she understood they had only learned to use her for themselves and that she had allowed it.

As she continued to talk, she cried some; she thanked me for listening to her, deeming my listening as a gift. As the family entered the room to observe us holding hands, both with tears in our eyes, their anger erupted onto me. They asked me to leave the room and to not return. I was reported to the nursing supervisor as having interfered in their family life.

Although I was gently admonished by management, it was acknowledged that perhaps I had done a good thing. The next day the physician, a very business-like gentleman, came up to me, gently put his hand on my shoulder, and said, "You did the right thing."

I am glad I did the right thing in spite of having been reported by the family and being gently admonished by management. I think that I did help the lady have a better death which added to her quality of life.

Be My Friend at the End

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