Death

Last night at work, a friend that I was quite attached to died.

I am in the death business. No I am not a funeral director or a serial killer, I am an aged care nurse. People do not generally move into a nursing home to "get better". They are there to die.

In the afternoons "sundowners syndrome" (increased confusion/agitation) often hits people with dementia, and inevitably I will be approached by a distressed resident. "Excuse me Love" they say, "How do I get out of here?". I won't give away too many of the answers that I give to such questions, as most of them involve dubious acting skills and questionable distraction techniques. The answer that most frequently pops into my head, is also the truthful answer "there is only one way out for you, and that is in a body bag". You will be happy to know this is also the answer that I do not verbalise!

Having been an aged care nurse (by choice) for the last 7+ years I have seen a lot of death. I have tried all sorts of ways to cope with this. Some healthy, and some not. During one particularly emotionally harrowing year I kept a list. Upon hearing of the death of a resident, I would write their name down on a "death list" I kept in my bedside drawer. I remember waking up in the middle of the night numerous times that year in a panic, because I had not written down a name. In my head, if I didn't make an effort to remember them, then it would be like they had never existed. That probably says more about my mental health that year, than it does about aged care nursing, and I haven't had a year quite so bad since.  Nevertheless, at times I have tried to cope with the demands of my job by getting quite attached - seeing it as human - to love hard and grieve hard. I have also tried consciously not getting too attached to the residents, but found that this led to lack of enjoyment in my job and a task focused attitude (or dare I say it?... even annoyance when someone had the audacity to die on my shift and push me into unpaid overtime).

I think an added difficulty I have with facing the imminent and then the actual death of a resident, is my belief that heaven is exclusively for those who trust in Jesus. The belief that those who do not trust that Jesus, by his death on the cross, paid the price for our rejection of God's rule over us - will ultimately face his anger. This news, that Jesus paid the price for our sins so that we can be with him for eternity, is the best news I have ever heard! However, when I watch somebody with dementia die, many of whom do not know Jesus, I find the grief intense. I feel sad when I hear some of my colleagues say "I am just glad they are not suffering anymore". I think "Are they suffering still?" I guess we won't know until we see Jesus.

Of course, sometimes a life-long Christian dies, and I feel utter joy at their release.

These days I try and work by the philosophy that while the residents are alive I can give them a lot of love, and tell them of the love of God in Christ Jesus whenever possible (which is frequently). I can walk them to their death with dignity and good nursing care. I can miss them. But I cannot control or change their eternal destiny, so I must let them go. Often I will send a friend a text in the moment, asking them to pray for me and the resident's family and send a virtual hug. But every now and then I return to the old extremes and ways of coping.

Last night at work a resident I had grown very fond of died, quite suddenly. The situation was made even more tragic by the fact that this resident was relatively young, with rapid early onset dementia, and children my age. I never found out if this resident trusted in Jesus.

I was reflecting in the car on the way home from work on the fact that there is really no other healthy way to grieve my friend than with my Lord. With his arms around me. Upholding me by his promises, goodness and love.