Monday, May 31, 2010


In the end, my patient didn't die while I sat there with her. It was an honor to sit with her and help make her more comfortable. Her partner returned from his errands and I stood up to talk to him in the living room. We talked quietly about my next visit, and I told him that if she did end up passing soon, not to worry about calling me, that my coordinator would do that. I went back into the bedroom and said good-bye gently to my patient, who found the strength to lift her head and say good-bye to me. On my way out, I stopped by her partner, who was almost slumped with grief. I asked him if he was a hugger and he looked confused for a minute than smiled and stepped toward me. I gave him a big hug, told him to take care of himself, and left the apartment.
He called me that night and told me that my visits, although few, had meant a great deal to him and my patient. He told me she had died an hour before.

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