The Hard Job

A man arrived VSA to my resuscitation today. He collapsed an hour earlier, had CPR done by his family, early electrical defib by the fire department, further defib, oxygen and drugs by the paramedics, and further interventions in our department. Sadly, despite a timely chain of survival, it did not work. In someone who drops like that, with no known medical problems, we assume a major cardiac event.

When our efforts were over, I accompanied the doctor to deliver the horrible news to to his wife and children.

And as the doctor was talking, I started to get teary eyed. I had seen this family arrive, crying and clinging to each other, hopeful that everyone's efforts would save this man. The doctor could barely convery his full disclosure when the wife and older children sobbed with grief; hope had fled them. In my dealings with them afterwards, it was so difficult for me to talk to this family without my voice breaking because my heart was broken for them.

It wasn't my sorrow to own, but it became my sorrow to bear witness to. Watching their despondancy tore at me for the rest of the shift. In one hour, amidst the usual ED patient complement, this family's life was irrevokably damaged.

We don't have a program in place for family support during a resuscitation. Our after care is hit and miss depending on who the staff is, whether or not the Crisis team is available, and if spiritual care is requested whether or not they can attend.

Whilst I could not feel the satisfaction of helping this man back to life, it is rewarding to know that his family were not neglected after hearing "he didn't make it". Thankfully, our pace was slower this evening, and I had all the time I wanted to care for the grieving family.

I wasn't the only one who was affected to tears. The charge nurse cried, seeing the eldest child overcome with emotion to a near feral level. Another of my co-workers, who was present during the intial response and was assisting with the care of the smaller family member, a little boy who didn't understand what was going on and who may never remember his father, later said to me "and people wonder why we are the way we are - why we have nightmares".