I can tell death is going to be an issue.
It seems like the majority of the patients on my unit don't make it out alive. Most people who work on the unit say, "If they ever try to bring me here as a patient, shoot me first." They're not kidding.
It really hit me the other day. I was looking through my alumni magazine (from the other degree) and in the "deaths" section I saw the name of a patient I had cared for. I was surprised because as far as I new he did make it off the unit and his wife had written a thank you letter to the staff. I yelled out, "Oh my god! It's (blank) (blank)! I cared for him in October!" My husband replied, "Don't tell me that!!! Remember HIPPA!!!" I briefly wondered if HIPPA applied to the deceased. Of course it does.
On Thursday I was on the unit for an orientation day. I walked down the hall and I just happened to look into a room and I saw a patient dying. It was so strange. Her family was gathered around her. She was still as a statue with yellow, waxen skin. Her eyes were wide open. I felt fairly certain that she was already dead. How strange to think it will soon become an ordinary part of my job. Here I am with my orientation binder in my hand, going to the next class and there is death, just a few yards away from me. And with no ceremony, or outpouring of emotion. It was just ... there.
So there's a lot of death on my unit. There's even a smell that I associate with death. Inwardly I think of it as "that MICU smell" and I've come to believe it's the odor of dying cells. I've suprised myself by how quickly I've gotten used to it. I can actually eat lasagna in the break room while I'm smelling it.
