I went to a funeral yesterday for a patient. I went to a funeral yesterday for a friend that I barely got the chance to know. Four months ago this person walked into my life at work looking for help and I was blessed to be a, however small, participant in providing that help in the form of an experimental treatment.
I am not the chemist who helped to develop the drug and I'm not the doctor who saw promise in this drug and worked to bring it to his patients. I am not the physician assistant who provided the daily, weekly and monthly practical health support that kept him going for as long as he did. I am not the nurse who drew his blood, watched his vitals and tracked his improvements. I am the person with the blessedly ambiguous role of Research Coordinator.
I have come to realize that with ambiguity comes freedom, the freedom to do as little or as much as you care to do. Thanks to an amazing trainer, coworker and friend I knew how to do the most that I was capable of. I am the person who got to know him and his family. I am the person who got to find the answers to his questions and the person with the time to explain the small but important things. I am the person who got to listen when things went wrong, find solutions and ease the burden of the logistics inherent in receiving health care. I am the person who got to celebrate when his labs began to normalize. I am the person who got the "I'm feeling so much better!" emails and phone calls and I am the person who, however unwisely felt the warmth of his excitement. I suppose it's only fitting that I am also one to attend his funeral and mourn with his family.
There are nurses on the unit who strive to attend the funeral of every patient that they care for, I am not one of those people. I can't be one of these people, it would destroy me and make me useless for future patients. This is only the second time that I have gone to the funeral of a patient. You might think that death in a cancer hospital would not catch you off guard but for me his did. I only met him and his partner 4 months ago, but really, how long does it take to know that you've met someone exceptional? How long does it take to acknowledge that this is someone that you want to know? I expected that I'd have months, years even to hopefully watch him improve and get to know him. This past Wednesday I needed to say goodbye and I needed to hug his partner because when there are no words, all I know to do is to hug.
This man (who I cannot name) had an incredible network of family and friends all of who could explain and celebrate who he was far better than I could ever hope to and so I will stick to only the things that I know for sure.
He had an amazing smile that lit up his entire face, it was the first thing about him that you noticed: beautiful teeth and an incredible smile. If it was his smile that caught your attention though it was his eyes that drew you in and held you. They say that eyes are the window to the soul and I believe it because through his eyes you saw the gentle, irreverent joy that seems to have characterized his life. He was a warm soul who could find the silver lining in just about everything....well everything just short of ascites and paracentesis. :) He was 1/2 of a relationship that was truly what we all dream of having for ourselves, one full of laughter, love and respect. A relationship that made me re-evaluate my own standards for love, a relationship that made me know that I could never settle because if something like that is out there for me I'd be doing myself an injustice by selling short.
I am disappointed and angry that I did not get the opportunity to know him better. My heart aches to think of his partner hurting as he I know he is. I wish for him to find comfort and peace but I know that only time will bring him these gifts. So in the place of gifts that are beyond my capacity to give I offer up to the universe only my love and my remembrance for the man who can only be named here as 001.
As cliche as it may seem, I am distressingly aware today to of the transitory nature of life. I sat on my couch this evening after work and I was afraid. Afraid of the contentment that I feel each morning when I wake up next to Wes, and each evening when I come home to him. I feel guilty for being so happy in the moment when someone equally deserving of happiness can barely breathe for sorrow right now. That could be me tomorrow. I have never been so afraid.
I lit a candle the night that my friend died to help light his way to wherever we go from here. I have faith that there is a somewhere else and that when he got there, Charlie and Sharkie were waiting to greet him. I will light another one tonight in remembrance and gratitude.
Thank you for being a part of my life.
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