You know its going to be a bad day when your first patient calls you a "motherf----r" and says "get out of my room, I'm not lettin' any of you do anything to me", as her alcohol tinged breath wafts across the room. Okay.....it's 9:15 and I have 11 hours and 45 minutes to go.
Among the other patients was someone in for mental health because their grown son had just been sent to prison for life. Then there is the 55 year woman who has been fighting cancer for 10 years (and looks it) and this will be her last day of life. She will not go out quietly. Death isn't pretty a lot of the time. It involves noisy breathing that tortures family members. It can go on for a while.
There is the young man found staggering around a local mall and when the doctor asks what's going on with him, he gives her the finger. OK then....
There is the crack/pot abuser in her early 30's with seven children whose family brought her in because they don't know what to do with her anymore. There is the man from another country with both cancer and tuberculosis who is dying. Sometimes I just feel weary of the suffering and troubles. I'm human.
I have worked oncology med/surg and hospice for 5 years. I feel you. Big time. A lot of our patients have poor access to medical care and by the time they get to us, they are just eaten up with cancer.
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