Comfort & Solace Care
In the quiet and serene province of Prince Edward Island, I began my career as a paramedic. With my newly acquired license as a Primary Care Paramedic, I was filled with a mix of excitement and trepidation as I began my first job in this picturesque place. My heart swelled with pride as I cruised through the streets, lights flashing and sirens wailing, rushing to save lives. But amidst the adrenaline and the thrill, there were moments that would forever haunt me, moments that would bring tears to my eyes.
It was a cold winter's day, just a couple of days before Christmas. I couldn't help but feel a pang of homesickness, missing my family and the joyous celebrations we shared. Little did I know that this day would bring me face to face with the true essence of my profession.
A distress call came in, summoning our unit to a nursing home where an elderly woman was struggling to breathe. As we arrived, I was informed by the staff that the woman was in the final stages of her life, and her family had been notified. They had expressed their inability to visit that night but promised to come the next day if she was still alive. The nurse also revealed that the patient had a do not resuscitate order in place, a decision made in consultation with her doctor and power of attorney. However, there was a problem. The nursing home staff couldn't locate the original document, the piece of paper that held the key to honoring the patient's wishes and is needed in order for a paramedic to honor those wishes. I knew that time was running out, and I couldn't afford to wait any longer. I had to act, even without the certainty of her desires.
As I assessed the patient, her vital signs deteriorated rapidly. Her heart rate slowed, and her breaths became shallow and infrequent. My heart sank, knowing that I had to make a life-or-death decision without the necessary confirmation. With a heavy heart, I initiated CPR as the ambulance sped towards the hospital. It was a moment of firsts for me, it was my first-time performing CPR and my first time doing it alone in the back of a moving ambulance. Against all odds, my efforts were successful, and the woman's heart started beating again.
Upon arrival at the hospital, I handed over care and informed the hospital staff to notify the family. But instead of gratitude, I was met with disappointment. The family, rather than being grateful for the chance to say their final goodbyes, insisted on faxing the do not resuscitate order and coming to the hospital the next morning, urging the medical team not to prolong her death. I knew that the woman's time was limited, but couldn't bear the thought of her passing away alone. With a heavy heart, I reached out to my supervisor, seeking permission to stay by her side until the end. And so, I sat in that hospital room, praying and comforting her for over two hours, assuring her that she was not alone.
When the woman finally took her last breath, a bittersweet mix of emotions washed over me. In that moment, I felt a profound sense of peace and fulfillment, knowing that I had been there for her until the very end. It was a sad ending to a tragic situation, but in many ways, it was also the most beautiful and poignant.
As I left the room, tears streaming down my face, I knew that being a paramedic meant experiencing the full spectrum of human emotions. It was a job that demanded strength, compassion, and resilience. And though I had shed tears that day, I also knew that I had made a difference in someone's life, providing comfort and solace in their darkest hour.
