First.

There is always a first of everything. Including a first patient death.

One where I wasn't a student nurse or with a preceptor. One where I am the nurse. One where I am who the family members go to in the aftermath. One where I am person who will handle the post mortem care: completing technical hospital procedure as well as being sensitive to what the family needed in term of emotional support, which was a hard balance to find.

I don't know why I've gotten attached to the patient on the previous post. Maybe because they were so kind and so brave, in their darkest hour. Maybe because I was touched by the love and support I see between them, the desire to fight for more time to live. Maybe because what they went through was all too familiar to me--that they reminded me of Grampa and my family 1.5 years ago.

Maybe I am crazy, but as I got off my shift yesterday morning, I was hoping that if that one were to die, that one would die on my shift, on my watch. Perhaps, I needed it for closure. Perhaps, the day shift RN rubbed me the wrong way and I wanted that family to have someone who would care about them as people and not just another patient.

Sure enough, that one patient died an hour after my shift started. Time of death: 20:00.

When I came on shift, the family still--well, I wouldn't call it "cheer" in the mourning state that they were in, but let's just say they were still glad to see that I was their nurse last night, as they always have. They, too, knew that the time was coming. I knew I was not the only staff who felt attached to that patient, as one by one, I saw some of the day shift staff stopped by the patient's room to say goodbye as they were leaving. Some shed tears, some held that patient's hand for a few moment, some hugged the family members and offered any word of comfort they can think of.

Within the next 5 hours--between making and getting phone calls, readying the body for the morgue, making sure the family members are as okay as they can be, and helping them resolve issues that have surfaced, I was drained.

Fortunately, I work with an awesome group of people. A charge nurse who was so understanding that I would be tied up in post mortem care, that she did not give me an admission until I was settled. Fellow RN's who gladly volunteer information and help as to what I needed to do to complete the hospital's post mortem policy. A PCA who kindly helped me as I removed all lines and tubes from the body so that the patient would look more presentable to the family and ready to be transferred to the morgue.

It was hard in the beginning. It would be easier if I could just cry with the family instead of having to restrain myself so that I can do my job. In the end, I am just glad that it's now over.