Surreal in The C Word

I’ve watched a lot of people die over the last 20 years. Most likely hundreds, although I don’t keep count. When your career has been in elder care, then cancer and palliative care, it racks up pretty quickly.

It just feels so surreal to be the one in the chair at the bedside, watching mum in the bed. She’s been pretty much unresponsive since last night, but comfortable and settled, like she’s having a really good sleep. She had terrible nausea the last few days and the look on her face yesterday when she was heaving will haunt me forever. Im sure if someone had offered to just put her out of her misery she would have gladly accepted. Thankfully it’s all settled down as she’s deteriorated further overnight. She’s not required any extra meds for pain or anxiety which is a blessing, although they’re readily available. In fact, other than pain in her leg following the bleeding haematoma a couple of weeks ago, she’s not had any pain at all.

She’s on my ward, the very ward I work on. There was talk of moving her to another hospital as it might be more ‘beneficial’ for me (as in, if I found it awkward being on my ward). I was furious that the idea was touted to mum and dad without consulting me first, and was determined that she should stay here. And believe me when I say, there is not one single thing that would make this any easier. But, she knows the staff here, she’s comfortable here, and I know that the palliative care we provide is top level. I trust my colleagues implicitly and I can’t tell you how much of a relief it is to go home and only have to worry about the fact she’s dying, and not to have to worry about all the little things that come into my head from a nurse perspective.