Just when I think I'm done, I cry again.

Mercy, is it really mercy?

According to the viewpoint of Merriam-Webster, it's mercy.
1 a : compassion or forbearance shown especially to an offender or to one subject to one's power; also : lenient or compassionate treatment b : imprisonment rather than death imposed as penalty for first-degree murder
2 a : a blessing that is an act of divine favor or compassion b : a fortunate circumstance
3 : compassionate treatment of those in distress
 According to the viewpoint of Daughter, it's the finale. It's the end of a love, the closing of a relationship, the letting go of all hope that Dad would make it home.

According to the viewpoint of medicine, it's for the best. It's easing the passing, relieving the suffering, making it easier, lessening the watching of Death claim Man.

Sure, we've all read about nurses/doctors who give/prescribe medicines-particularly morphine and lorazepam- knowing that they will lessen the work of breathing (make it easier) and decrease the anxiety that comes with not being able to breathe. Hand-in-hand with that comes a decrease in the WANT TO to breathe. So he's breathing easier BECAUSE his body doesn't want to anymore. And he's not agitated about it because he's medically (and necessarily) sedated. The effect of all this-knowing that Man died not feeling as if he was suffocating, not thrashing around in bed, not gasping to get one more breath in.

And I helped. When I was first asked, I was ready to step in, knowing that he had fought a long battle, and was losing. As I prepared the drugs, it hit me what was happening and what we were doing. I didn't think I was ready to do that. But I know God gave me the strength, courage, and compassion to help Man and his Daughter.

All day long, it was go, go, go, and chart, chart, chart, and transfer, transfer, transfer, and page doctors, and calm irate patients, and clean poop (sorry!),  and now, I'm crashing from too much Mountain Dew (I shouldn't have, but I was craving!) and the inner workings are going and I can't keep it inside.

I think the main things that really get to me about it are 1)Wife had not been able to see Man since he had been admitted to the hospital-several days, if not weeks, 2) just a week ago we were having a conversation about the spelling of my name and Tuesday he was so irritated with us that he flipped each nurse off who went in to his room and 3) YESTERDAY he was ready to go home, not physically, but mentally.

I walked past his room last week, and he has his eyes wide open, like bugged out, and would just yell out "Hey, hey hey!" if you even thought about glancing in. But it was funny and adorable at the same time.

I really don't have much contact with death, even though I work close by it very often. This is only the 5th I've encountered since January 2008. First was Curly,  I happened to be walking by the room, and saw her through the doorway-she was already gone. Second, was Computer Geek who was there when I left one night, and gone by morning. Third was New Admit-not 30 minutes after being admitted from the ER she coded on me. Fourth was Low Blood Pressure, who's nurse thought I looked so composed and calm and I climbed aboard his bed and started compressions (inside, I was freaking out!). And each one hits me new, whether I'm there when it happens or while I'm gone and I hear about it later.

I know they will keep coming. This is me coping.

My tears are shed; my prayers sent for the family; and now my thoughts are written down.

*big breath* sorry to be so dark tonight, check back tomorrow for some light hearted stuff and BABY! pics! N&N had a baby boy on Monday, and he is a cutie pie! Brendon and I are going to go see them tomorrow and bring then dinner. I can't wait!!


  1. I love you Nina. I knew this was the calling that God has for your life. What you wrote about is what we went thru with grandma. Thank you for saying all the things I couldnt

  2. I'm sorry that you have to deal with the icky side of nursing. But God has provided you with compassion and mercy to help. I have tears reading this.

    I've only seen someone die one time (Mrs. Milleson's husband, David. I was there with her for several hours at the end. So was pretty much everyone from church for the last 30 minutes or so) and I literally held his hand when he died. It's hard. I'm sorry you have to go through that!!