You Understand

I met a man once who immediately knew I would understand him. He wanted to die, and he hoped I could help him. He probably realized I was in no position to grant his wish, but by understanding him, perhaps I helped. I was in nursing school. He was on dialysis, and just wanted to stop, to let it go. He had had a pop-fib bi-pass that got infected, and his leg looked like a piece of raw meat. He had an open wound from his inner thigh to the middle of his calf. I took him to hydrotherapy and watched him shake in unbearable pain as the salt water bubbled into his wound. I felt physically ill the whole day, simply from witnessing his torture. I wanted to give him strong pain killers or something, but if I recall, his kidneys couldn't handle it. No comfort in sight for him, other than death. As dialysis grew nearer, he begged me not to take him. "You understand. I'm old. I'm not going to get better. My family tells me I will, but I know I won't. I just don't want the dialysis anymore. You understand." I nodded. "I understand. I don't think they'll let you refuse, though." He probably saw it in my face....how I wanted to put him in a wheelchair and take him to his favorite spot to die... a beautiful beach, his favorite park at sunset. I would play his favorite album, or make sure he could hear the call of his favorite bird. Who wants to spend the end of their life in excruciating pain, hooked up to dialysis in a sterile hospital?

His family argued with him, "Dad, you're going to get better. You need your dialysis." I hope they were right, but had a bad feeling they were wrong. They would have to deal with knowing they let their father be in pain in his final days. The hospital must have made a bundle on him. I don't think they cared if he ever got out or got better. As my shift went on, he got closer to needing dialysis, and went a bit insane from the toxins that built up. He had a hallucination and kept handing me something. I had to keep him from wrapping his sheets around his face and neck. The movements his hands made simulated tying a rope, then he'd hand me something, and put the sheets tightly around his face. Had he wanted me to take the other end of a noose for him? I'll never know, but I do know he wouldn't have even needed a noose. And I would have made it more painless than that. At the end of the day, they took him to dialysis and I went home. I got out of nursing as soon as I could. I wonder what happened to my poor old friend. If he survived and was able to do anything at all that he loved, they were right, I guess. If he didn't, he and I were right. I'll never know how he knew I understood him. Is there something in my face, my eyes, my demeanor? What was it that he saw or sensed about me? Perhaps he'll get to tell me one day. We'll have a good chuckle together on the beach at sunset with owls flying all around. For now, my friend...I love you, and I'm sorry.