As it happens in my business, at times I see patients as they progress through their course of illness. Sometimes I may even get to know them as bright intelligent individuals, and then, weeks or months or even years later I am with them when they pass from this world onto the next.
Most of the times, this experience is not one that I find particularly disturbing. What happens, happens; and while that may seem callous to some, when you are in this business (or others like it), you have to re-think things just so you don’t spend your time off going crazy about work.
Last night, one of the patients on our unit, whom I had taken care of many times over the previous couple of years, passed from coherent thought into dementia. I found her wandering the hallways, unable to find her way back to her bed.
She turned to me and said, “This ship is just so nice, and I’ve never even been to Hawaii… can you be sure I don’t miss anything?”
We walked around the floor, introducing her to the other shipmates, making it back to her bed. We chatted for some time, staring out of a large plate-glass window. We discussed the Hawaiian landscape, and the Hawaiian weather, and how absolutely astounding she found the lot full of (Hawaiian) cars.
Several times, I would attempt to re-orient her, telling her she was in Phoenix, and that she was in the state of Arizona.
Sometimes, during the conversation, she would understand where she was (or at least know she was indeed not in Hawaii). She would eventually forget again, and make some comment about how we Hawaiians were such beautiful people (I take the compliments any way I can get them these days) and how much she would like to see the tops of the volcanoes in the distance (we were looking out at North Mountain).
Eventually, she allowed me to put her to bed. As I lifted her legs into bed, and pulled the covers over her, she told me how excited she was to be on such a lovely cruise ship, and that she had never ever (ever no not ever) been to Hawaii. More about how wonderfully nice and beautiful we Hawaiians are, yada yada yada.
Again, I quietly told her that she was in Arizona. Such disappointment.
“Do you think I’ll ever get to go to Hawaii?”
“Of course you will. If you wish to go, I’ll bet you will get there.”
“But I’m 84 years old!”
“There are people there that are older than 100.”
“Ah! … That’s true…”
And finally, the quiet bliss of sleep takes her, hopefully, to the white sands, blue water, and smoky volcanoes… of Hawaii. As I leave her room, I wish her bon voyage.
I've never heard of it, send me some info (I'm emailing this to you too).
Posted by: Eric | October 18, 2004 at 11:04 AM
Eric,
This is a beautiful post. Please consider submitting it to Grand Rounds this coming week.
Azygos
Posted by: Azygos | October 15, 2004 at 09:57 PM