Saturday, October 24, 2015

"How are you able to continue working after witnessing a death like that?"

I had a great question from a very insightful medical student after the first case of our day was to Code Blue that did not get any better. The code was on a young patient in my primary care. She was very unwell, and I'm sure nothing would that have changed the outcome. Tragic, true, circle of life type stuff. 
Initially, I felt really upset with myself. How could I just move on? I know this woman and her family quite well. Should not I be more upset with what just happened?
With every death, every code, I ask my team to do a quick debrief with me (longer if needed) to ensure that we did all that we could, and needed to do. I go over everything in my head as well. Where could I improve next time? Were we all wearing PPE? Did I speak with the family in a respectful, clear manner ?
This time around, the police were with us. We're a small town, so all tragedies involve them. It's great, because they call victim services if needed, get in contact with distant relatives, chase after teens who "can not take it" and run off. They are a really good bunch. They surrounded me and checked in on how I was doing. Asking if I would talk to someone if things went poorly. I am telling me I was a rock star in the trauma bay, That the family completely trusted me and was incredibly relieved to know that I would be the one working on their loved one. Basically making sure I do not get PTSD from the event - something I try to do for them all the time but was not used to having it in return. 
I was a bit upset, but felt like I was not upset enough. That I was a big faker pretending to care. 
It was not until yesterday that I was able to figure out why it is that I can just pick up and go on. This was the third patient that description fit that died in front of me this year that I was able to continue working after their pronouncement. 
I have a therapist. Everyone should. She helps me figure out things like this that niggle in the back of my head but that I do not take the time to work through. She helps me figure out when the culture of medicine is nutso and I'm right to ignore the culture and do what is right. 
Here is the answer, finally, med student of mine. I have an incredible resilience built around patient deaths. 
When I first got into med school, I knew that someone like me with a soft hear t might have a hard time with death so I sought out situations where I would be challenged. I thought about each deat h as an unavoidable event and looked for the way that I could make it the MOST comfortable for the patient and their family and (even when the patient is a baby). I learned that I could cry with family in a respectful manner. 
Each of those links is a blog post I've done during my training and practice to reflect on death and my part in it. I see myself as separate from the patient and their family. I love them in a way that is not family or friend, but caregiver. My role in their life is just a step in their journey through this world. They hold the same role in mine. While our lives intersect, my goal is to make our lives both better for the experience. I learn my lesson, then a go to intersect with another life. The lessons I've learned stay with me forever, but they are not necessarily emotional. 
Sometimes they are. A patient died of malnutrition at a young age, and you bet your ass I got angry and looked to make change. But, because I want the rest of my patients to be healthy, because i was not dwelling on his passing. 
So, my thought process goes like this; reflect on the death changeable and my role in it, reflect on the interaction with family and colleagues, move on to the next patient who needs to see me. This might happen many times during the day following that death. I still wonder if I could have done more for my patient before she died, but that use as a way to be a better doctor, not to dwell on the past. 
Death is part of life. My job is to keep moving forward. I see my getting back to work and helping other people as a way of respecting my patients' lessons to me. 

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