If you read my post “Me and my Crystal ball” then you know sometimes we predict prognosis incorrectly, especially in palliative care. We were all wrong about the young patient I mentioned in that post, but that was okay! He got to spend two more wonderful months with his family. He was admitted for a minor issue unrelated to his illness, and asked to see a familiar face so we were consulted.

I happily sat with him as he told me the tales of his two children under 7. I told him he was handsome when shaven, he laughed about how terrible he must have looked in those months he was admitted (it’s true, he looked awful). We joked about his new tattoo. He was still very sick. But you wouldn’t see that in sitting with him…you just saw joy.

He died suddenly at discharge as the nurse was reviewing his paperwork. Just like that. My sweet angel arose from the ashes only to return.

I am a Palliative Care Nurse Practitioner. I’ve chosen to expose myself to sorrow, to grief, to unimaginable pain. With that, I am privileged to experience delicate love, unwavering faith, and the sacred final moments of life on Earth. Experiencing loss as a provider is different. We aren’t expected to grieve, and we don’t always have time to.

I will gladly continue providing support to my patients in the most trying days they’ll ever experience. My angel patients strengthen my faith, and show me that one can still experience pure happiness while being simultaneously engulfed in suffering. I am overwhelmingly grateful I have been chosen to do this work, no matter how difficult days get.