A final goodbye

… Oh no…

That’s what you said.

That was the last thing you said.

After you had told me a joke and

assured me you were not in pain.

Never knowing you were this close to death.

But I knew.

We all knew

and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

*****

Oh no…

That’s what you said as

everyone rushed to hit their marks on the stage of the drama that is life

and death.

But you needed time.

And time waits for no man.

*****

Oh no…

That’s what you said as

your eyes flew open wide and your expression…

Surprise? Shock? Fear? Dread?

I had seen that look before on the face of another patient who looked me straight in the eyes

as he went into V-tach (ventricular tachycardia)

and died.

*****

Oh no…

That’s what you said.

Before the compressions…..the defibrillations….the compressions…the intubations and the compressions.

The convergence of decades worth of medical experience surrounding you and the nurses frantically grabbing the equipment for three physicians at once for the insertion of lines into vessels that were useless

and those infernal compressions.

CPR can seem so violent.

So intrusive.

Without hope.

*****

Oh no…

That’s what you said

before you died.

I’ve never felt so helpless in the face of death.

I know there was nothing that could have been done even though everything possible had been done and yet

I can’t shake it off.

*****

Critical stress debriefing.

Maybe it’s just another term for “mourning”.

Mourning a man I took care of for a year.

Mourning that began

when you said

Oh no…

Rest in Peace, Mr. R.