Estoy enterrando cajas.

I had an experience with a patient many years ago. I actually blogged about it HERE using the analogy of a box to paint a picture. I had talked about a box, but she definitely was much more than a cubic piece of cardboard. She had been through so much with her disease, yet her son and husband faithfully stood by. Her loyal advocates. I wasn't expecting to ever see her again, and definitely not under the situation in which I did.

I was on call. And as calls tend to go... it was busy. I had just split our team, sending three residents to the ORs leaving a single intern on the floor and myself. A trauma rolls in and I get a text for a STAT consult, needing to be seen emergently. Now, as an aside, if anyone is able to figure out how to split oneself and successfully be two places at once, please share your knowledge. For it is something we desperately need. Until then, we will continue doing as we do. I received the trauma, made sure it was stable, and then headed off to see this STAT consult. I was nearly rendered speechless when I turned the corner, and saw my box sitting there. I approached almost cautiously, trying to convince myself that it couldn't be the same box. But then I saw her son, loyal as ever, right at bedside, and I knew without a doubt. And same as last time, she again was asking to be picked up. No... let me clarify. She didn't need to ask this time. Just one look, and a lump rose in my throat. This box was about to burst into flames. At least this time I wasn't the intern trying to get my senior to respond. I already was the senior. I called my attending, and made my arguement. To which the attending responded, "oh, :( she's going to die!" Wasn't much else that needed to be said. And we went to the OR. Anything less would have simply been watching her die.

I'm not keeping count, that would be too depressing, but the weight of the battles fought and lost is sometimes harder to ignore. As I walked through the ICU late that call, I consciously kept my head down. There was more than one candle being lit in my collection, and perhaps I was ashamed. Almost afraid to confront them, and hence I kept my eyes down and instead reached out with the soul inquiring if they were okay, if they were finally at rest, and if they could forgive me.

Much Love.