Working on the frontlines, of life and death, the things you encounter, translated…
Working in the oncology department, I’d seen more than my share of death in the months. The physicians are those who must face death the most numerous times, the image that the oncologist gives to the outside, is the one playing that tug-of-war on the ropes with life and death. And, the difference of that month, standing, on the edges of life and death, the physicians are like the announcer, with the electrocardiogram readings, calmly announcing that the patient had, finally, passed through this, flatline, and, entered into another world’s, time.
That was, an older woman at the terminal stage of lung cancer, been going through chemotherapy long-term, in and out of the hospital, and yet, this time she was admitted because of acute pneumonia, having shortness of breath, losing her consciousness. The primary person of relation was her husband, the first time we met, he’d, introduced himself as my older schoolmate. Without any extra demands, but as he’d interacted with me, I’d known, that he needed a favor, and he’s asking it as an older schoolmate.
illustration from UDN.com
And yet, before the illnesses, a lot of things, I wanted to help, but can’t. The pneumonia worsened quickly, and, his wife went from being able to nod or shake her head to answer to the inquiries to being out most of the day. And, the normal oxygen mask can no longer provide the needed oxygen intake she was in need of. Under this condition, the woman would need to get intubated to get her pneumonia treated, and yet, before the day, the woman told her husband, that she didn’t want to be connected in anywhere, to sustain her own life, and so, we used the BiPAP—the largest noninvasive measure to treat her. I’d told her husband, truthfully, how her condition is worsening quickly, and how her husband was going to do “afterwards”, did the two of them discuss it already? Like, calling up the funeral home? And, out of my expectation, even though his wife’s been diagnosed as the terminal stage of lung cancer, he’d never, thought about “afterwards”, because he kept believing that there’s still hope, and never even considered giving up.
As I went to see the patient again, as I opened up the door, I saw those friends and relatives from everywhere who’d, rushed over to see her, and—the husband, with shoes on his feet, on the bed, spooning his wife, and as he saw me, he’d inquired, “Doctor, is it that if you take the oxygen mask off, she will…die…immediately?”
That was, the scene that’s, etched into my mind to this day, how can I, imagine an army man, cried his eyes red, holding tight to his wife, and letting his image slide before all who knew them?
If you ask me, what does, the realm between life and death look like? I would describe it as a chaotic blackhole, using that unseen force, sucking everything away, and time, emotions, exploding in space, disappearing.
And so, this, is in the face of life-and-death, and, the writer has, faced, many moments, being an oncologist, and, I’m thinking, that what touched this man most, was how this serviceman showed his softer side, holding tightly to his, ill and dying wife…