“Nurses are there when the last breath is taken and nurses are there when the first breath is taken. Although it is more enjoyable to celebrate the birth, it is just as important to comfort in death.” -
Going into nursing, I never really grasped the reality that I would be facing all stages of life in my clinical experiences. Through my precepting, I have experienced the joy of welcoming a brand new life into the world. I have seen first-time mothers clutch their tiny baby in wonder, gazing in awe over every perfect inch of their mini miracle. I have watched parents comfort a sick child, wearily seeking any answers we have to offer. Adults, more confident (but still vulnerable)! come for care as well. Their reliance on us is more unnatural to them, but illness often makes it a necessity. Finally, we see older adults brought back to a place of childlike dependency as we provide for them as they once cared for their children. This cycle of life is natural to us. We are born, we grow, we live, and one day we die. We may not like to admit it, but there is an underlying acknowledgement of these simple truths.
That being said, I will never forget the first time I saw death. I was at a hospice clinical, and we had just gotten off the phone with a family member of our patient. She had been seriously declining all morning, and we had just been doing our very best to keep her comfortable. Every breath came in a gasp, and her whole body shook with the effort of simply pulling air into her tired lungs. After we finished the phone call, we walked into her room. As we walked over to take her vitals, everything became quiet. The fierce struggle was over. Our stethoscopes detected no heartbeat, and rapid rise and fall of her chest had finally stopped. The life that had coursed through her was nowhere to be seen. She was gone.
It was so sudden. So immediate. All I could think of as I gently closed her eyes and propped her up in bed was the image of an empty chrysalid. Many times my family and I have hatched butterflies, and every time I have wondered at these delicate creatures. An unpleasant step in their transformation comes in the weaving of a chrysalid. This little sac contains them until they are ready to burst forth from it and leave the crinkly shell behind. At times it seems like they will always stay in their tiny home, but once they depart, there is no turning back. The shell that once contained them can no longer hold the beauty of the perfectly formed creature that emerges.
If I should go tomorrow
It would never be goodbye,
For I have left my heart with you,
So don’t you ever cry.
The love that’s deep within me,
Shall reach you from the stars,
You’ll feel it from the heavens,
And it will heal the scars.
Sometimes as a nurse, the very best thing we can do for our patients in times of sorrow is to simply be there. Our presence, the gentle touch of a hand or the tenderness of a fallen tear can bring a comfort far deeper than words. There are hurts that are beyond our power to fix, just as there are joys and mysteries far beyond our power to bestow. Acknowledging this is the first step in healing a hurt that no medicine can tend to.
"Do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." -Joshua 1:9
"My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." -Psalm 73:26
"Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love." -Lamentations 3:32
"For this God is our God for ever and ever: he will be our guide even unto death." -Psalm 48:14
It is far easier to come to terms with death when it follows the typical path. When my Great Grandma died earlier this year, I wept for her but also took joy in the fact that she was now free from pain. Death is never natural, but for those who have lived a full, long life, it is anticipated. When death hits us the hardest is when it comes unexpectedly. That is what happened to my sweet friend, Lexi.
Just last week I was in class with Lexi. Everyone who knew her immediately pictures her beautiful smile and her contagious laughter. Whenever Lexi was in the hospital, she shone. She was never happier than when she was helping others. Her patients loved her! I know she would have made such a wonderful pediatric nurse.
Lexi's unexpected passing over Thanksgiving break shook our entire class. Our hearts were broken as our professors told us the news through tears last week. We had just taken our last HESI, the first exam in two and a half years that Lexi had not been there for.
We don't know exactly how Lexi died, but her sudden passing has brought the reality of death to the forefront of our minds. None of us ever know which day will be our last. I have talked with many girls from my class this week, and the phrase that keeps coming up in our conversations is, "I just wish I could hug her one more time...I never got to say goodbye."
Lexi never failed to live life to the fullest, and we all know that she will be with us on the day of our graduation. Though she will never have the opportunity to walk across that stage with us, we will carry Lexi's legacy of joy and hope in our hearts through graduation and always.
Lexi's best friend wrote, "All [Lexi] ever wanted to do was help others, and although she never got her chance to do that as an RN, I know she’d be overjoyed to know she will be helping 76 lives as a donor." Lexi served her patients while she lived, and even after she died she continued to make an impact. What a beautiful picture this is of the selfless service Lexi was always so ready to give!
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble” (2 Corinthians 1:3,4).
Those who haven't felt the pain of loss cannot ever fully understand the grief it brings. Whether it is the sting of a friendship suddenly broken off, the pain of a poor prognosis, or the heartache of a loved one's passing, the hurt is so distinct and overwhelming. Yet in these times of questioning, fear, anger, or grief, what a rich blessing we have in a God of all comfort who promises to give us unimaginable strength!! Jesus Himself wept real, bitter tears at the death of his friend. There is no sin or shame in entering into the reality and pain of our losses. The only real mistake we can make is staying frozen and embittered in our grief. After we have taken the time to process our pain, we must throw ourselves on God's grace as He gives us the strength we need to carry on.
He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. -Revelation 21:4
Lexi, when I heard you had died, it was not the image of a chrysalid that came to my mind. Instead I pictured a beautiful, dainty butterfly, opening its wings and soaring. Its bright colors reflect your beautiful spirit! You have taught me that we never know when the next stage in our life will come, so we must live each and every moment to the fullest. You've said goodbye to this life now, and you are dearly missed. Yet your death has not brought an end to your precious legacy. The grief we feel as we process your passing will enable us to become stronger nurses, capable of facing both life and death in our careers with confidence, joy, and empathy. Your life touched so many and made us far richer for having known you. We love you, dear Lexi.
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