"people are dying, i close my blinds"--ingrid michaelson

my patient is 90 years old and dying. today, i convinced her family that we should let her die. as i spoke with them...as i watched them hanging on to every word the senior resident and i had to say, i felt something like i would imagine a skeevy used-car salesman with a conscience would feel like. on the one hand, i wanted so much for them to just tell me what they wanted. on the other, i wanted even more for me to not be thinking about how my night would be hell if they didn't pick the do-nothing-and-treat-with-comfort-care-until-death approach. that's morbid, i know, but it's the truth. i tried to put myself in their shoes. it didn't work. i couldn't imagine it. maybe i didn't want to imagine it...i dunno...point is, though i told them what i think and feel was right, it didn't feel good.

down the hall my 80-something year old looks like crap. he's been in and out of the hospital at least 3 times in the last 2 months, and though he's not the world's most sickest man, he's also not the healthiest. i feel bad for him every time i see him in the hospital. though he looked as good as ever this morning (which isn't really all that great) there was little sense of accomplishment when i took care of him through the night. so he was stable this morning...so what? so his heart was looking better than i'd ever seen it...who cares? he's already started circling the drain and all i'm doing is blocking his way down. i feel...useless.

not to be a downer or anything...i'll be honest...i did feel slightly proud when later my senior resident was happy that i "fixed" mr. 80-something...i guess it's just that...i'm not sure how i feel about anything. at work, while i'm working, i act based off of what i think i should be doing...but it's when i'm away or have a moment to think or really look at the patient that i start overthinking til i get confused.

basically, i need to stop thinking. hah.

i guess that's all.