i started the morphine continuous drip through the PCA at about 8 pm.

i questioned the debate about physician assisted suicide.

really, what is the issue all about?

all you need is to have a terminal illness. tell the doctor and your family that you are in severe pain. tell them you wish to be comfortable. and comfort is a big thing. actually, it’s the only thing.

you will be referred to palliative care. they will order either a drip of morphine, or ridiculously high doses of pain relievers at ridiculous frequencies.

you start saying thank you to the doctors, to the nurses, to your family and friends, then you start to fall asleep.

and never wake up.

is that physician assisted suicide? definitely sounds and looks like it to me.

the palliative care team however, calls it comfort care.

we are all professionals of course, and we agree to disagree. after all, we are here for the patient, and it’s not about us and what we really think. the only thing that makes me uncomfortable is the fact that it is MY job to hook up and start the morphine drip, or push that versed. it doesn’t seem fair. or you know, something just doesn’t seem right somewhere.

ten hours passed…all sorts of tears have been shed. the morphine continued to drip, yet the patient continued to breathe, the heart continued to pump.

and the family wanted to know. …”how long…?”, they reluctantly asked.

i had no answer.

aside from the fact that i didn’t really know, the question made me uncomfortable.

i remember my past experiences with this same situations.

the first one had the morphine drip for more than 24 hours, but still, she kept moaning. palliative care decided i should give versed. 5 mg quieted her, but they think she was still uncomfortable. another 5 mg of versed was ordered. that quited her. for good. in a few minutes.

the second one breathed his last after approximately 5 minutes of getting 5 mg of morphine.

it seemed like every person has his own time table. why? i have no clue. when is that time? i don’t know.

anyway, the question made me feel uncomfortable because it sounded like the family was dying for the patient to die. i’m sure that was not what they meant, but it still sounded depressing.

when i came back the next night, the body was awaiting to be brought to the morgue. 19 hours of temporary comfort…then the final, total absence of pain.

i cannot totally psyche myself up to believe that i did the right thing. i know by law, i am covered, but there is this blunt, nagging thought that haunts me. i am a nurse. i’m supposed to prolong life. what did i do? i cannot escape guilt, even though i know patients die eventually, and by giving them comfort, i am being a good advocate.

i need to convince myself that in situations like these, death is a good thing. a really good thing.

how do you do that?