loss

I lost my first patient today.  In some ways, it's a bit surprising that it took almost two years of clinicals for me to be on the team taking care of a patient that died.  But I wanted to acknowledge it and tell the story.  It feels like a way of doing something more, even when nothing more can now be done.

Today was my last day on pediatrics since I will be gone tomorrow picking up Linda in Livingstone.  So after OPD finished around 5:30, I figured I'd go check on a few patients that seemed less stable before heading home.  I checked on the premature baby on maternity ward (probably about two months early, but mom is really unsure of dates for her last period) who probably has respiratory distress syndrome due to lack of surfactant, which we don't have and can't give.  She's still really tachypneic (fast breathing) with lots of retractions and a sternum out way further than her ribs, pushed out by air trapping, but she's still breathing.  So I moved on to the peds ward with the room where we can give oxygen.

I asked one mother whose toddler I've seen for the past two weeks how her child was doing, and she said a little better today.  So that was encouraging.  But then I heard the second mother in the room crying. 

I turned to see the second child on oxygen without the oxygen on but the machine still running, covered by his blanket.  Apparently he had just died recently.  I stood there for a minute or so, not sure whether to go over or not, when the doctor and peds nurse came in to pronounce him dead.  She looked at his pupils, which were dilated and non-reactive, and left.  Then the mother really started crying, and I also started crying.  I did go over and give her a hug.  Then more family came in, beginning the traditional wailing, and I left the room, still crying, trying to pull myself together to walk out the peds ward past the other moms sitting out in the fading sunlight of the day.  I could hear the wailing escalating around the hospital campus as I walked out for the day.

I had worried that facing suffering here, especially children dying, would make me question my faith.  I did ask God briefly, "Why?" but it was more of a question about suffering generally than this specific instance.  And I still believe God is good and cares for us.  I still believe someday all these things that are wrong in the world will be made right.  I still believe that somehow, one day, the Light that shines in the darkness, breaking out in vivid brightness that allows us to see in color for second, will one day provide so much light that there will be no need for the sun, and darkness will be no more.

This was the sky on my walk home tonight.  Light breaking out.  Beauty in pain.  Thanks be to God.