The Return!

Well, my first shift back was... memorable. I am so grateful, and so excited to be back. I can also say that this shift was easily the most difficult shift I've ever had.

The first day was so good. One transfer, nothing else exciting went down, we met a lovely lady who was very nice. We woke up once at night to do a long(er) transfer of a psych patient, who was genuinely crazy-pants, but a very friendly and cooperative, albeit talkative crazy-pants.

A tone dropped in the early hours of the morning for a fire, which we didn't have to go with on, gratefully. I was tired. Soon thereafter, a transfer came in. It was an urgent to go to a local nursing home. Our dispatch information was "hypoxia with difficulty breathing." Mind you, we're being asked by the facility/insurance to come in non-emergent (which means not lights and sirens) and what's more, we had half an hour to respond.

We get there and our patient is sick. Clearly, sick. A slight nose bleed was all the untrained eye would see. To us, we saw pale, cyanotic, terror. She knew she was going to die. We feared it. A few short minutes later confirmed what we already suspected, we were racing against time. Paperwork dictated that she did not want any extraordinary measures taken to preserve her life.

Soon, she was coughing copious amounts of dried blood from her lungs.
Time to go... Now
As we transferred her from her bed to ours, something changed.
We began fastening the safty belts and she grasped my wrist firmly in her hand. "Help me... please" she whispered.
"We're going to do everything we can for you, okay dear? Now don't you worry now! You're in good hands." I tried to console. Then it happened. Her jaw clenched and her eyes closed.
No visible breathing. No palpable coratid pulse. DNR in hand. We were done.

I prayed for comfort for my partner and I, for the staff, for her roommate, and for her family. I prayed a lot. And yet I struggled. How can it be that I was blessed to come back 4 weeks early, just to have my heart ripped up with this call. In all accounts, this is considered a tame call. We were bound by the law to not work this arrest. That means the loss wasn't ours. It was the laws. right?
Still, I watched a daughter, a grandmother, a mother, a friend, a sister, a person a child of God suffer. In a way I hope I never have to suffer.

We win some, we lose some. Thursday, we lost.

I can't say whether we could have saved her or not, had we been legally permitted to try. I couldn't tell you if any attempts would or would not have bene in vain. That's not my place to make that statement.

I know that peace and comfort are available when it's requested.
I may not know why I was blessed to come back to work for this shift. But I do know that He knows, and I can't ask for much more than that. I trust Him. I choose faith over fear. I choose faith over tears. He knows why I needed to be there for that call, I trust that it will give me experience and be for my good.

I am grateful for the Plan of Happiness. I'm grateful to know that this isn't the end. How hopeless life would be to not have that knowledge.

Still, this isn't a call I'm likely forget anytime soon. I wish I could have done more.