I had come to the conclusion a few years ago as a Critical Care Tech (Fancy word for nurses aid in the Critical Care Unit) that no matter how it comes, death sucks.
Now, as a Paramedic, the enitre responsibility of the welfare of my patients rest completely on my shoulders.
Every little thing I do or don't do can effect the outcome.
The other day I had the first patient die on my watch.
As soon as I saw him/her, I knew he/she was too far gone, but there was enough that he/she had to be worked. He/she deserved to be worked. His/Her loved ones who were watching deserved for us to work him/her...yet, I knew what the eventual outcome would be...and death won out.
The ER Doc told me "Good Job and said that I "did everything correctly", but I have run the scene over and over again in my mind.
Could I have done this more quickly, and why didn't I think of that...
Found out later that the patient was engaging in activities which expidited the demise, and there was no way of my knowing... but I still feel responsible.
I felt like puking the rest of the night.
I hate it.
Having to comfort the loved ones....seeing the empty shell of a person that once was...stomach is still in knots...I know I'll have to deal with it again some day and if it doesn't come in ten years, though it will more than likely come much sooner, it'll be too soon.