Suicide, Attempted and Accomplished

They were the same age, had the identical diagnosis and were from completely different places of life. One was a wealthy woman, who wore more jewelery than any patient I had ever seen in my life. The other was a poor woman, who wore a motorcycle jacket and had no teeth. Both had ODed on over-the-counter drugs in an attempt to end their lives, and I was taking part in their 1:1. Both patients lived, both patients were going to be fine, but both patients were upset, the consequences of their actions made them regret everything and they vocalized their depression and anxiety about all of it.

Oddly enough I love working 1:1's with psych patients. If they are alert and oriented, we can talk to them like old friends and not like patients, but if they are not alert, oriented or even close to, they are fun because they say things and do things that simply make your day better. For example, we had one of them on a NPO diet, and she wanted Ice chips so badly. We tried to explain to her as we swabbed her mouth- but she didn't understand. "So do only the pregnant women get ice chips then?" She asked me, her big blue eyes looking into mine with genuine worry. I tried so incredibly hard not to laugh as I tried again to explain, but she was long asleep by this point.

Its something we deal with day in and day out. Life and Death. When you get a bunch of EMT's, CNA's, Nurses, Firemen and even Cops together eventually the subject will be brought up. How will we go? Going through schooling we always laughed at those kids who slashed across the street and were 'too stupid' to go down the river. We laughed at those people who thought a handful of baby aspirin would do them in, didn't they know that a whole bottle was needed at least? More than once have I talked about how I would go, and I always imagined myself doing something heroic. I'm not one who has ever wanted to be a old person, sure, I want to see grandkids, but I don't want to be that old that I only see them on Sundays when they come to the care center.

I hate it when patients attempt to kill themselves, and they succeed. I really hate it when they attempt, we care for them for nearly a month and they pass unbelievably quickly. Its terribly sad, and horrible for all of those who are doing the post-mortem care. I wasn't the one to do it- but it was terribly sad to know that another soul had passed on and that two of my colleagues, who had put their blood, sweat and tears into caring for him, had to now place him in a bag with a tag on his toe.

Not many people know this, but I pray when we loose someone, locking myself in the locker room or taking that extra few minutes before turning over my engine and heading home. I pray that their soul can find its way home and to peace. That all of their pain and suffering will disappear and they will finally find rest. At times I feel like the only person who does this, and I know my colleagues would laugh if they knew this, but its what I do to give myself clarity and peace of mind. Maybe I am crazy for doing it. Maybe I am just a believer.