Index title: HCRUZ’s MAR [06-02]

MAR Title: Mortality

Date of  medical observation: February, 2006

NARRATION                       

                        Have you ever in your life felt totally vulnerable? I have! Let me tell you the story of a gentle soul. A 69-year-old, male, potentially septic, who came to OM for treatment of a diabetic foot. A gentleman who shall remain nameless in this narration, but who will always be remembered in the alcove of my memory. He was painfully well-mannered even to those who are temperamental, above all those who’ve gone 36-hours without sleep. He was patient, understanding, and trusting in more ways than one. I could remember him saying kindly: “Kayo po ang masusunod doktora, kung sa tingin nyo po ay tama wala po akong tutol.” When asked of how he was feeling, even when wracked with pain that showed plainly on his face, he always reassured us: “Mabuti naman po.” He never complained and yet he had all the rights in the world.  

                        My patient was operated on and was doing well for a day, every indication of recuperating from his ailment was demonstrated – or so I thought! On the 2^nd post-op day, my patient had sensori-neural changes, difficulty of breathing. I watched helplessly as everything was being done, yet nothing seemed to make much difference. I wanted to shout obscenities at the world and the greater power that sustains it; I had wanted to jump off a cliff if it means he’ll live long enough – for my own selfish reasons. I can feel tears streaming down my cheeks, my senior stood behind me, and ever so kindly said: “Let him go.”

                         He succumbed on the 3^rd post-op day after a valiant fight.  

INSIGHT (Physical, Psychosocial, Ethical) (Discovery, Stimulus, Reinforcement ) 

                        I presented my first mortality with grief. Learning to accept death, a death which may likely be part my liability, has never felt so profound. But accepting to let go is even more testing. Doctors may be the “guardians of life”, as I liked to coin the profession, but we are by no means divine. Would it feel the same when it happens again? Or would I become indifferent to the event? I would hate to feel the way I did before, the frustration and sadness of loosing someone under my care, and I still have a very long way to go. When I was told to “let him go” I was released from the incarceration of my own fear. I realized that in life nothing is absolute, you cannot save everyone. But I hope I will always respect life because what I am afraid of most is that one day I might not feel any remorse at all in loosing a patient.