What doesn't kill you makes you stronger in A new era

My job makes me wonder why some people are made to suffer and others are not. There's no rhyme or reason, no logic to any of it.

Some people have painless, comfortable deaths, and some people have horrible deaths, where they are unsettled and afraid. We can give drugs to the patient to minimise their suffering, but we can't do anything for the families and their suffering, watching their loved one die, watching the interventions we undertake.

Almost all families are grateful. They hug us after their loved one has passed, kiss us, thank us for our time and care and compassion. And maybe it's enough for them, but it's a rare day when we feel we've done enough to satisfy ourselves that it's a job well done.

A lady of mine died today. She had a superior vena cava occlusion secondary to lung cancer. On her scan report, it showed her tumour and it's vessels had intricately woven itself around her lungs and heart and their vessels, squeezing every inch of life out of her, slowly, terrifyingly.

We gave her drugs, as many as we could, and more than we usually do, to keep her calm and settled. We held her hand, we stroked her hair, we patted her husband's back and listened to his stories about their life together.

How do you find time to do that, when she's just one of the seven patients you're looking after? You do it because you can't bear not to. I do it because there is nothing worse in my mind than thinking that poor man is going home without his wife, I couldn't bear for him to think we didn't care about that.

I love end of life care. It's heartbreaking, and draining, but so rewarding and honest and raw. From a selfish point of view, I derive a great deal of satisfaction from knowing I've done all I can for a patient and their family. It sounds corny, and every family has it's problems, but I love how apparent love becomes at this time. It's all there is left.

I'm not saying this is always the circumstance. I've had my fair share of families who have had to visit in shifts because one half doesn't get on with the other, and I've even been witness to actual stand up rows in the middle of the ward. But usually, usually, you can literally feel the love that is had for the person who is in that bed.

It's incredibly hard work. It's physically and mentally draining working on my ward. Nursing patients through cancer diagnosis, chemo, all the horrible things chemo does to you, and then sometimes end of life. You wouldn't believe we cure some people. I suppose I never write when good things happen, I usually only write to offload when I've had a bad or sad day.

I'm in tomorrow then off for 11 days, and I'm glad of it. I love my job but I need this time off to recoup and recover my sanity. We've been insanely busy this last couple of months, to the point that we've all wished for more hours in the day to get our jobs done, and more hours at night to sleep and recover.

I'm very much looking forward to some time off to rest, and indulge, it's my birthday next week so there are plans for afternoon tea with my mum and sister, lunch with John, drinks with anyone who wants to come, dinner with my family, and time with the girls. Plus it's Jenna's birthday, my friend with the two kids, so I'm sure I'll see her at some point. Definitely a busy week, but I'm looking forward to it immensely.

Xx