Dear Patient Nineteen,
You didn't know that was your name, did you? You'd be surprised how people come through the ED with the first name of Patient. I'd like to briefly introduce myself and let you know a few things. They probably don't mean much to you because you're trying hard to die...by your own hand.
My name is Kate. I only have incidental care of you, for you see, today my assignment is working in our Critical Care Laboratory. In another place, I'd have been the one pushing doctors out of the way, palpating your limbs, looking to find some sort of usable vein to draw blood so we could start putting together the pieces of just what in the hell you've gone and done to yourself.
But I'm not in that temporary limelight. I just know you're here because a piece of paper, a requisition, just crossed my desk. It's bright yellow - actually the shade is called goldenrod. Your temporary name is there along with the other vital information we need in the lab: your sex, female, your age a question mark. No identification on you, was there? It's no wonder the docs have called for a blood gas, a lactate, a glucose, a whole passel of drug levels and a hemoglobin and hematocrit. You're in bad shape, girl.
I didn't hear about you until about 0745 when I reported to CCL from the NICU. My brief huddle with Mick, who'd relieved the overnight CLS at 0700 filled me in on your case. He'd been warned to expect lab work for you - it had been coming in regularly since you were brought in around 0300.
Someone found you under one of the bridges the homeless frequent. It was pretty obvious you aren't homeless, unless it happened that very day. You were found nicely dressed, in clothes the homeless cannot afford. Those clothes were relatively clean except for the grime you imposed upon yourself. You had a purse with no driver's license, no credit cards. Even the checks had been removed so as not to give your name away.
What in the hell were you thinking? The empty bottle of vodka gave the medics the first clue. Some suggested you got drunk, passed out and were robbed.
You came in with a probable Dx of alcohol poisoning. Your lab work showed more problems, though, and debunked the robbery theory.
Over 300 Tylenol in your belly? Not to mention that handful of antidepressants. That explains the Dx on the bottom of the requisition that just crossed my desk, that goldenrod colored one I mentioned earlier in this letter to you.
Nineteen, Patient, Female, Age Unknown.
Dx: Suicidal Ideation
Tried to kill yourself, didn't you? You probably read the fine print on your antidepressant medicine - it said you should refrain from alcohol consumption while taking those, didn't it? And the Tylenol? A whole bunch of 'em is potentially hazardous to your health - but hey - at least you probably won't be in any pain when you die, right? Or, that's what you might think. It's not like my junior high girlfriend who tried to doff herself by taking a whole bottle of Bayer aspirin. Of course, that was in the days before Tylenol. All my friend got was diarrhea for her efforts to die.
You've been thinking about this for awhile, haven't you? You've decided that life isn't fair, and everyone hates you. Or, some guy dumped you. Or, you didn't get accepted for something you wanted - a job, a car loan, nursing school, whatever. You could have decided that you'd get your way if you created enough of a fuss. Hey, I'll try to kill myself...that'll show 'em! So, you got a bottle of booze, and two lethal handfuls of pills. You can wash 'em down with the vodka.
Patient Nineteen, huh? What a name. I've often wondered at the variety of "last" names we get with the first name "Patient". Whether it's true or not, I always imagine that when an unidentified person comes into the ED, the medics make a guess - "She looks like she's about nineteen - hey, Unit Clerk, is Nineteen taken?"
And that's how you might have gotten to be Patient Nineteen. It's not like we see a chronological order come through. I mean, our last "Patient's" last name was Thirty-Four. But I really have no idea how the unidentified patients are numbered. Just be thankful you're not one of many Jane Doe's.
I wish you could be me and see some of the things I see. You see, my desk and computer are right next to the SICU Waiting Room. That's where they sent you after they got you stabilized enough to move you out of the ED.
I have a narrow little window, just big enough for a single person to stand in front of to pick up blood products or drop off lab work.
But, it doesn't hide the screams. It doesn't hide the sobbing. When I go to break, I have to pass that room. Sometimes the people can't stand to sit in there, afraid and lonely, waiting for the next ten minutes in the hour they can perhaps see you. Sometimes they're out in the hallway, desperately looking for someone who looks like a doctor, someone who might be able to give them some more information.
I wear a lab coat like the staff doctors. I've had the people waiting in SICU grasp my sleeve, begging me to let them know how their loved one is. I've walked into the elevators and found relatives scrunched into the corner, riding up and down, till they can pull themselves together and present a brave front for the people they left sitting in the waiting room.
You've touched my life briefly, Nineteen. And, you've pissed me off and frustrated me.
"What'd I do???" you might wail if you knew of my ire.
Let's talk about what you did, okay? First of all, you picked someone else's home to attempt suicide. Did you know that the homeless veteran who lives under that bridge had a daughter just about your age? She was his youngest child. He never got to see her again, because his wife left him while he was in the first Iraq war. He looked down at you and he thought of his child and he struggled to the nearest convenience store phone, luckily only a block or so away, leaving everything he owned behind, taking the chance that someone else would steal his stuff. But, he didn't want you to die, just as if you were his child.
You didn't see the face of the EMS trainee who was riding along with the paramedics. You could have been one of her friends. And, for a brief moment, she thought you were. Her hands shook as she handed requested items to the medic.
This story of shock played itself out when you got to the ED. Each person who helped you had a reaction. Some sympathetic, some jaded.
When you were moved to SICU, no one knew who you were. I passed out plasma and blood to the clerks for you. The nurses couldn't take the time to leave your side. The RT's ran their own blood gas samples to us. Good thing you had all that Tylenol on board - blood gases hurt like a sonovabitch. If you come around, you're going to have one sore wrist. Both of them, actually. But then, maybe you lucked out and they put an arterial line in so your labs can be drawn quickly.
You piss me off, Nineteen, because I have kids, too. I worried about those kids as they struck out on their own. I worried about them each and every time they went on a date, or missed curfew. I slept lightly, afraid that the phone would ring in the middle of the night and it'd be the Highway Patrol, calling to tell me "there's been an accident." I know what your parents are going through now that you're not where you're supposed to be. I have a pretty good guess how they'll react when someone figures out who you are and they are notified. I know how afraid they'll be, afraid that you'll die before they get there, afraid that they won't have time to see you and tell you they love you before you take your final breath.
I wondered if you have brothers and sisters. I wonder if you realize the anguish your suicide attempt has caused. I wonder if you will ever know that if you die you'll leave behind so many people who loved you...so many people who will wonder till their own dying breath why you did what you did.
I wonder if you'll ever know about all the nameless people who busted their asses to keep you alive...and if you do live if you'll ever have the sense to appreciate it.
Maybe you think I'm too harsh. But I have good reason.
Six years ago my adopted brother committed suicide. He took his life because his wife, who was quite ill, took her life, calling him with her intent, than delivering the final shots when he rushed to stop her. He was so broken up, he took his own life a few weeks later after getting both of their affairs in order.
But he forgot about his mother and dad. He forgot about his brother and sister. And we still mourn for him. I'm still angry at him for doing that to all of us.
And I'm taking a bit of that anger out on you, Nineteen. I hope to hell you don't do to your loved ones what was done to me and mine.
25 comments:
Beautifully written, Kate. I cried. Sending prayers.
I don't know what to say. I'm speechless right now.
*hugs*
This needs to be published in some place many more people will see it, Kate.
Is it unmanly to admit to tears? Well, I'm unmanly, then. So be it.
Two Wolves
Wow....
I UTTERLY disagree with your article, Anam Cara. In the strongest terms possible.
If one does not own their own life, they own NOTHING. I am constantly boggled by the efforts we make to stop people - especially DETERMINED people - from killing themselves. I think that is as insane as we claim suicide to be.
There can and are a lot of reasons for taking your own life - Not just 'my boyfriend dumped me' or 'maybe they'll give me what I want if I fake it.' Those aren't serious attempts - This WAS. This was someone who BADLY wanted out and had that choice taken from her. If this was a 'cry-for-help' (which only occur because we extend such efforts - because they KNOW that someone will try their damndest to save them and then feel bad for them rather than allowing them their choice), she wouldn't have taken steps to disguise her identity or find a location where she was very unlikely to get help.
And a public space is NOT someone's 'home' - They may be living there right now, but it is no more their home than it is mine.
Sorry, but we are on utterly opposite sides on this issue, dear one. Anyone can get to a place in their life when they are in such pain, or hopelessness, or lack of interest, that it's just not WORTH continuing. Life just isn't that sweet.
Now, that doesn't excuse being rude and callous about it; either to family and friends or to the medical personnel who have to clean up and recover your corpse. Like anything else in life, your death can be done with style and consideration or to be as big a twit as possible. You've had some encounters with folks who tried to HURT on their way out, and that sucks. I've been hit with some of those too.
Your letter - heartfelt and full of love and compassion - is based upon a series of assumptions. The only facts you have are that this woman WANTED to die. Badly.
Sorry if this came across 'strong' - this has always been a hot-button issue for me.
Orion
The saddest thing for me in this article is not the girl who attempted suicide, but the response of you, medical personnel. For starters, you have no idea what was going on in this person's life. She may very well have NO ONE who cares for her. No family, no friends. She may have mental illness. She may have a zillion reasons for doing what she did.
I attempted suicide in September. My life was OVER in my mind and I thought I was doing a favor for the people I was leaving behind. I thought, in my delusional state, that I was a burden and my issues were unsolveable. My therapist had dumped me over something I didn't even do. My husband was wanting to divorce me. I was just DONE. I can't even describe the despair and hopelessness I felt.
Let me tell you one thing, you don't have a right to judge people in this manner. You don't have any idea what goes on in their life. NONE whatsoever. People who are suicidal need help, not judgement and condemnation and basically telling someone to "get over it" and pick themselves up by their bootstraps when THEY DON'T KNOW HOW is idiotic.
Maybe you should consider another line of work.
Yeah, Emma, you're right. I *don't* have the right to judge the person I wrote about. I *do* have the right to react about it equally as much as she had the right to end her life.
However, you are being every bit as judgmental, aren't you? You've deduced that I should consider another line of work. Why? Because I gave enough of a damn about someone I didn't even know to allow them to make me angry and react to that anger? Because I wrote about something in the hopes that seeing that when you throw that stone of suicide into the water, the ripples are going to reach farther than you might imagine?
My brother didn't think about any of the people he loved and who loved him in return when he shot himself. All we can imagine is that his intent was to join his wife in death, no matter what. That he was in deep despair, we know. He was alone, and made this decision to die before my brother or I could get to his side.
I'm very sad that things looked so bad to you that ending your life was the choice you wanted to make. At the same time, I'm glad that you've survived to write this response to my blog posting. Somehow, somewhere, you found the help or the strength you needed to overcome the strife in your life.
You said in your own words what I was saying: you state that, "in my delusional state, that I was a burden and my issues were unsolveable." You were no different than the girl I wrote about, except you are alive and she is not. And, apparently, you have discovered you're not a burden, nor are those issues unresolvable. You seem to be working through both of those things day by day. And glad I am to know that you wake up to a new day and keep working toward changing things for the better for you! Delusion, with its dark veil is so difficult to push aside.
While I know not your circumstances, taking your life because your therapist dumped you, boggles my mind. It seems incredible that you'd end YOUR life over someone who you *hire* to help you with something. If you've given that much control of your life to someone who you pay to do a job...well, what if your obituary bluntly said, "Emma committed suicide because her shrink dumped her." How ridiculous that would look to almost everyone who read it!
And your husband wanted a divorce? While that can be one of the most devastating things in the world, again, you are handing YOUR power off to someone else and letting them control the beautiful soul within yourself that has the right to flourish!
I hope you found another therapist. And, I hope you have either realized you can survive without your husband, or you and he have begun to overcome whatever obstacles may have blocked your path together.
What you don't realize most of all is that those of us "medical personnel" involved in this incident, regardless of how major or minor our role was, cared very much. You see, medical folks are generally overworked for the amount of pay they receive, yet we continue to press forward, trying to help people *because* we care. It sure ain't because of the money.
You are welcome to return and voice your opinion whenever you wish. And, I'm glad that something I said, or Dr. WhiteCoat said sparked a response from you. So, neither of our posts were in vain, at least, that's my opinion.
"I hope to hell you don't do to your loved ones what was done to me and mine."
Loved ones? What loved ones? Some of us aren't lucky enough to have families who give a shit about us. Ever heard of child abuse? Don't judge.
I'm very sorry to hear you've been abused.
But, a family doesn't have to be a "blood" family. You can develop relationships with people who become your family that have nothing to do with people who are biologically related to you. And, I hope you've found someone to help you learn to deal with life beyond the abuse. You deserve that.
I wish you peace and healing.
Well, you don't know this person nor do you know what your brother was thinking and just assume he didn't think or care about you.
When a person is in so much despair that they are to the point of ending their life, NOTHING makes sense to them. They are not rational, nor are they truly responsible for their decision when they get to that point.
You know, I have found a new therapist and she is great, but I am going bankrupt paying her.I attempted suicide 2 weeks after my first attempt and still have days where I feel unsafe and have to get someone to help me deal. I've been hospitalized 8 times in a year because I have felt so suicidal and wanted help. My husband changes his mind every other day about wanting a divorce or not so that's not a stability for me. I have no family and few friends. I have a dissociative personality disorder due to severe childhood abuse. I have severe OCD and anorexia. The reason I would end my life over a therapist? She was all I had. The first person I told. Someone I opened up to. Someone I trusted who would be the one person in my life who wasn't going to leave me --and yet she did after she promised she never would. She was supposed to take my side and be someone who didn't hurt me. Yet another person had abanonded me. My mother had died a few months prior. My father doesn't give a damn. I had NO ONE except my therapist. And she accused me of something I did not do and dumped me as a client no matter how hard I tried to proclaim my innocence.
The bottom line was -- I was at the bottom. I had quit my job because I mentally could no longer handle it. I had no way to support myself if my husband wanted a divorce. I was alone. My own pastor said I was "over his head."
I didn't get the feeling you cared about the girl who killed herself. The way you wrote it showed you judged her choice because of the effect it had on others and didn't consider what she might have felt to have reached such a point. The problem is, a lot of people feel that either 1) people don't care or 2) they are too much of a burden to others and will be doing them a favor.
I have a friend who is a nurse. When she heard what I did, she was angry with me. After I explained things to her, she said she would see people differently in the ER now. She said they would get angry because they had people fighting for their life with cancer and other illnesses and then someone would come in who was deliberately hurting themselves. The problem is, their true hurt is invisible. And sometimes, that's the worst kind.
As for feeling close to people who aren't related to you...I've tried that and ended up hurt every time. You will never have that special place with anyone you're not related to. It doesn't happen. You can never have another mother, another sister, another aunt. Family always comes first and that's the way it is.
I found a friend who has "mothered" me somewhat in recent months. She has 2 daughters my age and no matter, they will come first. Her daughter had a surgery and she was there by her side. I had a surgery a few weeks ago and I had to call her and let her know I was okay...she didn't even call me.It just can't happen.
Emma
Emma, I'm going to take each paragraph at a time and give you my thoughts. Your words will be in italics.
Well, you don't know this person nor do you know what your brother was thinking and just assume he didn't think or care about you.
Actually, Emma, I did know what my brother was thinking. He told his brother he planned on killing himself and asked him to travel to where he was and to finish the job if he couldn't go through with it. There was no way his brother could get to him to stop him. As for me, I was taking care of my own mother who was dying. She died three days after we got the word Dave had died. I couldn't leave my mother to get to Dave. You want to talk about guilt? I have plenty. In three weeks time, I lost my brother and my mother...and my brother's wife. He'd still be alive today if she had not killed herself, probably. Maybe not, though. I do realize that he could have done the same thing had she lived out the rest of her illness and died from it. But, we'll never know.
You know, I have found a new therapist and she is great, but I am going bankrupt paying her.I attempted suicide 2 weeks after my first attempt and still have days where I feel unsafe and have to get someone to help me deal. I've been hospitalized 8 times in a year because I have felt so suicidal and wanted help. My husband changes his mind every other day about wanting a divorce or not so that's not a stability for me. I have no family and few friends. I have a dissociative personality disorder due to severe childhood abuse. I have severe OCD and anorexia.
I'm sorry life has been rough for you. And, I'm glad you're seeking help. Are there any programs that would help you pay for your therapist? Tough question for you...would you be better off leaving your husband since he's unsupportive much of the time? And, while that might sound harsh, I do know from experience that eventually one comes around to wondering just why the hell we tolerate that kind of abuse from our spouses. It's hard to think about leaving, and sometimes you can't do it right away, but somehow you begin to develop the strength and self-reliance to know that once you can depend on yourself, you can get through anything. What's his beef with you, anyway?
The reason I would end my life over a therapist? She was all I had. The first person I told. Someone I opened up to. Someone I trusted who would be the one person in my life who wasn't going to leave me --and yet she did after she promised she never would. She was supposed to take my side and be someone who didn't hurt me. Yet another person had abanonded me. My mother had died a few months prior. My father doesn't give a damn. I had NO ONE except my therapist. And she accused me of something I did not do and dumped me as a client no matter how hard I tried to proclaim my innocence.
It's hard to accept, but a therapist, a doctor, a minister, whoever, is just another person doing a job to earn a living. YOu pay them for their expertise in their field. Yes, you have to trut them, for you rely on them to help you - after all, that's what you're paying them FOR. And, it's difficult to deal with when you are shaky anyway, and they abuse the trust you've given them. But remember...you are asking them to help you, not take over for you. You have to depend upon yourself, first. I'm not telling you what to do, but I bet I'm telling you things you already know.
The bottom line was -- I was at the bottom. I had quit my job because I mentally could no longer handle it. I had no way to support myself if my husband wanted a divorce. I was alone. My own pastor said I was "over his head."
Emma, I'm more sympathetic to this than you know. It took me years, but I finally attained my dream job when I was 40, after I returned to college. And, it was taken away from me because my boss got involved in a "cult" I refused to have anything to do with. I was blackballed from the profession I'd worked hard to attain.
I fell into a deep depression and only the fact I had small children at home kept me from killing myself. But, I couldn't do that to them. And, eventually, I found a menial job working for WalMart, and I struggled for many years to get back to where I am today. So, please don't make the assumption I don't know your feelings or what you're going through. I think you'd find you are wrong.
I didn't get the feeling you cared about the girl who killed herself. The way you wrote it showed you judged her choice because of the effect it had on others and didn't consider what she might have felt to have reached such a point. The problem is, a lot of people feel that either 1) people don't care or 2) they are too much of a burden to others and will be doing them a favor.
No, Emma, I'm guessing that you probably couldn't see how much I care, from your point of view. Maybe someday, when you've worked through things you'll have a different perspective. I "can't" care in the way you may be thinking I should. No medical professional can let themselves care that much. We'd all be locked up in a padded cell. We can extend our care only so far; a certain amount of distance always has to remain when you work in a service occupation like we do.
Of course I don't know what Patient Nineteen felt. I know what I was told, though, and circumstantially, she had many things going FOR her. I know that doesn't mean there weren't bad things happening know one knows about, but from what was seen and done, there was no need to die. We see far too many people in our ED who never intend to die, but to seek attention with suicide attempts. It's a sad commentary overall, isn't it?
I have a friend who is a nurse. When she heard what I did, she was angry with me. After I explained things to her, she said she would see people differently in the ER now. She said they would get angry because they had people fighting for their life with cancer and other illnesses and then someone would come in who was deliberately hurting themselves. The problem is, their true hurt is invisible. And sometimes, that's the worst kind.
While I commend you for pointing out things to your nurse friend, you should also consider how many times we work with people who are racked with physical pain and keep toughing it out. Yes, mental anguish is every bit as painful. Consider, though, how many people think that some slight is the end of the their world and would rather end their world rather than show the world they can tough it out.
As for feeling close to people who aren't related to you...I've tried that and ended up hurt every time. You will never have that special place with anyone you're not related to. It doesn't happen. You can never have another mother, another sister, another aunt. Family always comes first and that's the way it is.
Once upon a time, I had a good friend who was on a ten year mission to be miserable. She was smart, funny, well-educated. Yet, she drove all of us away over time. Why? Because it was never "enough". We gave her money. We gave her support. We listened to her complaints. We researched for ways to get her food stamps, a lawyer, all the things she needed to better herself. She always had an excuse as to why she couldn't go to the food stamp office, get the car repaired, whatever. She had allowed HERSELF to become a professional victim. Some part of her couldn't live without feeding the negative. We fell away from her, one by one, because *we* were tapped out and in danger of losing ourselves. She created dissent among us and our families. And, we had to choose in order survive. You have blood relatives and other outside family. BOTH will leave you if you tap them out. I'm sorry - I refuse to believe that only blood relatives are the answer. Yes, family always comes first. You just have to choose members of your "family".
Yeah, Emma, you're right. I *don't* have the right to judge the person I wrote about. I *do* have the right to react about it equally as much as she had the right to end her life.
Damn straight, Kate.
And also as you said - Family don't mean blood all the time. You, jude, trace - are Family to me.
Anonymous: When a person is in so much despair that they are to the point of ending their life, NOTHING makes sense to them. They are not rational, nor are they truly responsible for their decision when they get to that point.
Not true. Not all suicides are irrational. It is quite possible to simply be too tired, in too much pain, or to have no further joy in your life - at which point, Suicide is a very rational option.
You will never have that special place with anyone you're not related to. It doesn't happen. You can never have another mother, another sister, another aunt. Family always comes first and that's the way it is.
Bullshit. In many ways I am closer to my 'fake' family than I am some members of my 'real' family. And your description of what truly matters is surely going to piss off every adoptive family on Earth.
We all learn from our experiences - Be careful you don't take your experiences and extrapolate them too far.
Orion
Yeah, O, we Love you, too. *grinning at O, knowing how much you despise the "L" word when it applies to you*
And, yes, regarding biological, versus adoptive...that is so true. Emma, I'm adopted. Don't have a single blood relative I know of until I had my own kids. But, that non-blood family, both the legally related ones and the ones I chose to adopt for myself have been the best.
And, it's my non-legal family who always has my back, not the legal ones. *nods emphatically*
Pptttbbbttttbbttttt!!!!! *sticking tongue out and waggling ears at Kate*
*then running and hiding*
(I've got her wriggling in the crushing grip of reason now!)
Orion
Finally got around to writing my rebuttal to this one, Anam Cara....
http://blog-in-the-box.blogspot.com/2008/08/suicide-is-painless.html
And I want more of your story!!!! I can tell it's good as it's stayed with me - Some of the phrases, the characters and the settings are intriguing. I want to know more.
Orion
Orion, goodie for you. I never found that. So it's not "bullshit" to me because I have lived it.
Kate,
Believe it or not, I agree with much of what you say. Some I don't. A person can't force themselves to feel better simply because someone offers them help. I didn't have the tools to feel better. I walked around inside my head my entire childhood and had created 14 other people to live life for me. I had no other choice. Abuse drove me to it. I didn't know how to "undo" years of traumatic abuse. I did not know how to accept love from others, even if they offered it and yes, often "drove them away" (in your words) because I was too needy and apparently didn't follow their advice good enough. I needed therapy and medication to help me. I needed a specialized hospital.
And yes, a therapist is doing their job by listening but there has to be a level of trust there and also a level of COMMITTMENT from the therapist to help you get better. My therapist crossed a lot of ethical boundaries and my current one thinks I have a malpractice suit. What I posted was 1% of what she did.
That said, I have a lot going for me too. I am in college and I am now working part-time again starting this week. But my brain doesn't think like everyone else's. My emotions don't react the same and my thoughts are often random and impulsive. Just because I KNOW I am impuslive doesn't mean I can STOP myself from being impuslive. That's a huge leap. I can make a bad grade on a paper and my thoughts go from zero to suicide. That's why I'm in therapy. I hear voices (inside, not outside -- I do not have Schizophrenia) and I have to fight urges to not self injure DAILY. I lose time many times per day and often have to retrace my steps to even remember what I did -- and I never do anything dangerous or illegal (just putting that out there, but I might have done my school paper or taken something out for dinner or called a friend and invited them over). I have OCD severely and I have to work through that too. I am not saying this to say, "I am a victim," just explaining that everything is not as cut and dry and "obvious" as you might think. If you met me in public I'd be the normal person next door.
And I'm sorry about your brother, but no, you didn't understand what he was going through. Obviously he felt he was better off doing what he did. Do I think it was right? Of course not. Do I understand? Yes. I've been there. More times than I can count. Your brother was hurting enough that he thought he should die. My aunt killed herself. I know it's hard to reconcile. I know a woman who's daughter killed herself and it has destroyed her with guilt. But the bottom line is that rationale is not a word in your mind when you do it. I just remember thinking how much better everyone would be if I just died and that I deserved to die because I was a bad person.
I don't feel that way now, but I still struggle. At least I have someone to talk to now, though.
Emma
Anny,
The 'bullshit' wasn't about YOUR experience, it was your extrapolation of your experience onto everyone.
Orion
I've been thinking on this for two days now and can't come up with a solution in my head....
I understand where Emma is coming from to an extent. Been down a lot of those dark paths Emma and know how hard it can be. Abuse (physical/mental/emotional), neglect, depression, loss, anger, self loathing... all the choicest venues.... been to them all.
I understand O's point. It should be our choice as it's our body and our life. No one but ourselves should be able to dictate/determine what we do with/to ourselves.
I also understand Kate's point about the hurt/damage left behind and the feelings in the aftermath. I helped with two passings (both medically related) and it was HARD for the surviving family, even knowing they were better off.
I never, even in my darkest hours considered ending things. (There were plenty of times I just wanted to run away and never come back, but not end it all.) It honestly never crossed my mind.
I just can't seem to form it into one mind set.....
At the risk of antagonizing lots of people, I have to say I get the feeling that both sides in this argument are unwilling to really admit that the other has some very valid points.
Kate, he was my brother, too. I feel certain that he killed himself because Kim destroyed him when she suicided. He loved her beyond life. I know this, and why he felt he had to die, because he told me himself. Do I agree with him? Absolutely not - you know that one of the first things I'm going to do when I see him again is kick his arse.
Do I understand? Actually, I think I do. We see love this deep, this overwhelming, every day. We read about it and watch reports on CNN and MSNBC and Fox4. We idolize those who, in effect, kill themselves for this great love. We call them heroes and we hold parades for them and erect great and grand memorials and even declare holidays to remember them.
Every person who goes willingly into the face of an enemy is, in effect, committing suicide. Period. Some of them succeed, a great many don’t, but they all, every one, make a concerted effort. Is it intentional, this desire to die? Sure, despite what all the bleeding hearts and idealists may wish to think. Why else would an otherwise “sane” individual walk into a situation where hesh *knows* hesh will probably be killed, yet nevertheless walks on into the fray? They might not “consciously” wish death, but wish it they surely do; if they didn’t, they wouldn’t go there.
One could argue – and no doubt will – that “it’s not the same” – and hesh would be partially right. No, it’s not the same … yet it’s the very same. It’s a desire to die, whether at one’s own hand or with the aid of another being completely irrelevant. It’s the particular reason – jilted by a lover versus an attack upon one’s home, for example – that differs. Neither one, though, negates the validity of the other. That part – judging the act’s validity – we survivors claim for ourselves.
Emma has a very valid point: none of us can ever know for sure just what sort of hel anyone else is going through or what that one’s limits are. We can only know ourselves; yet we continue to judge others by those self-imposed limitations and standards. *That* is our failing: trying to view others as ourselves. It’s also human, but so is picking one’s nose. Neither is all that good an excuse. Still, it’s the only excuse we have.
As to whether we medical people care or how much or in what way, let me say this: most of us care desperately. We wouldn’t subject ourselves to the anguish, the horrid hours, low pay, malnutrition, environmental extremes, dangers, loss of families and loved ones, and all the rest of the “benefits” if we didn’t. We’d just be salespeople or businesspeople or store clerks if we didn’t care.
Now, before all the salespeople, businesspeople, and store clerks howl for my head, know I have absolutely nothing against them – most of them are as dedicated to their jobs as any medic. What I’m saying is that there is any number of professions that are much safer and more stable than we medics. And, by “medics,” I mean anyone who works in medicine, whether paramedic, physician, nurse, lab tech, RT, or whatever. The point isn’t that I’m castigating non-medical people nor even non-paramedics – I AM NOT! The point is that we do what we do precisely because we do care, because we place human life above all else, even our own lives.
So, Emma, if you’re reading this, how dare you presume you know how much or even if I, a paramedic, care? Isn’t that being every bit as judgmental as you accuse me of being? The truth of it is that I *do* care, even to the point of feeling angry when someone seems to care so little for hiser own life. I don’t know why Patient Nineteen chose to die by her own hand. Perhaps she had valid reasons; perhaps she was just in a momentary pique. But, neither do you. Kate’s reaction of anger, then, is a most valid and human emotion. So, in case you didn’t notice, is her anguish over that death.
I feel for you, Emma, and I truly hope you can overcome your personal demons, but I understand Kate’s reaction all too well, too. I should; I’ve felt it myself many times. Much as this particular Paramedic hates to admit it, we medical folk are still, at the root of us, human. Just as are you.
The Auld Scot
When someone writes something for all of bloggerland to see without making it PRIVATE, it pretty much puts it up for interpretation and debate. A comment about this woman's life was made without KNOWING the woman and basing their beliefs on their own brother who died. THAT is not the best interest of the individual patient and taking into account the INDIVIDUAL and instead presumes something about them that may not be true. Therefore, my opinion stands. Kate's assumption of the patient is not caring about the patient. Sometimes all people need is a little compassion and a whole lot less judgement. That's just the bottom line. The rough of it is, medical personnel is not supposed to get personally involved with anyone and in that line of work, your interaction and imprint on their life is so brief, you truly can't. If you did, then it'd probably be your own suicide you're staring at, eventually.
That said, if Kate wants to be angry, then all the power to you -- be angry. What a wasted emotion, though, when in actuality, this woman took the stance to end her pain and possibly did have regard for others in doing so. It is my belief that EVERY person should have that choice.
Emma
It's very interesting to me, Emma, how it seems to be okay with you to make a decision on whether or not I care about a patient or not, and you resent my judgment of them.
Seems to me you're doing a wonderful job of judging me, too. You've already made a decision and you're sticking to it. That's a good thing. Shows strength and determination.
Debate is welcome until we all have nothing more to say on the subject.
I find it interesting that you don't want me to base feelings on Patient Nineteen's suicide over what I feel about my brother's suicide. Let me ask you this, though. What am I supposed to base it on? There are many kinds of death. We have learned through research that there are stages of grief. We know how survivors of a loved one's death react. Do you think the medical personnel are any less survivors than the next-of-kin?
Seeing and experiencing the aftermath of suicide has given ME my own opinions of what happens. It's not based on only Dave, or Patient Nineteen; it's based on several others as well. It's based on pulling my best friend back from the edge. It's based on so many factors I would not even begin to list them here - mainly because you don't have the ears to listen or the eyes to see what I say. And, that's okay. That's YOUR path, not mine.
But, don't presume you know who I am and my capacity for caring. You've already been told by others on this blog how much I do care. You may think that's nothing but a whole lot of b.s. from people who read my blog, people who've never met me. Wrong. The folks who are replying to you and stating opinions are my real life friends. I know them in person, I talk to them on the phone, they are not just internet names I know. I am most honored they come to my defense to tell you I care, whether or not you choose to believe.
The religious beliefs I have have led me to do much reading on death and what is surmised to happen to a soul or spirit after it leaves the physical body. Things I've read time and again have stated that those who've taken their own lives are, in most cases, deeply regretful of what they did, because they could not see past their own pain while they lived.
Whether or not that's so, it's what has stuck with me. I think we all think about suicide at one time or another; the gods know I certainly have. But, I keep forging ahead to see what might happen next - there's enough curiosity to keep pushing past it, I guess!
I'm not going to belabor this whole thing, though. You've made your decision on who I am; frankly, I don't give a shit what you think of me. As Popeye said, "I yam what I yam."
I won't be responding to anything further that you write, because I think it's all been said. I'm tired of worrying about you as I have been the last several days - you wouldn't believe I was, anyway, so there's no need for me to waste that energy, emotion, and prayer on you, now, is there?
I do wish you the best, Emma. I have too much on my plate to take up one more fight.
Yes, of course. Since I am just some formerly suicidal chick who was selfish and overdosed. I am certainly not "worthy" of you "wasting" prayers on me as I made that choice myself...to not consider others and only myself in that moment.
I am glad your friends defend you. I never had anyone come to my defense and say, you know, Emma, you're right. Maybe I am wrong. That happens to be one of the biggest factors in why I attempted suicide to begin with, in fact. I never felt as a child that anyone ever defended me. My mother let a man abuse me, never defended me...then my own therapist accused me of something I didn't do and my own husband didn't defend me. No one ever seemed to take my side in anything.
I suppose I'm right back to where I started...people defend you -- someone I have never met on the internet -- over me too.
Please. Be sure not to waste your prayers on me, Kate. After all, I am just an "internet" passerby.
Oh, but you're not reading what I have to say, so that doesn't matter either.
Well, it's a shame I couldn't help you see that judging someone's choice is going to make you a very unhappy person because typically you can't control what someone else does.
It's also a shame that you chose to argue rather than possibly admit you might be wrong. The ole' "he's my friend and he's defending me" dance can sometimes actually be the wrong dance.
::sigh::
Emma
Well, Emma, I'll give you a "win" in that I'm responding to your post.
First of all, your sarcasm doesn't become you. Your posts have been intelligent and well-written. You are lowering yourself to a level that is so far beneath what I can see of you from the posts you've written so far. Why do you want to do that to yourself? Why do you want to hang onto the bitterness of your past instead of reaching out for the future?
And, NOT ONCE have I referred to you as a suicidal chick. Maybe you should try to stop thinking of yourself as one, too.
Now, somehow I must have missed the point in what I thought was a discussion. I wasn't aware that I was supposed to tell you you were right and I was wrong. I thought we were talking about our various points of view...which apparently are on opposite sides of the fence.
And, what's the problem with that? You are certainly welcome to your thoughts and I am welcome to mine, at least as far as I'm concerned.
Other people have replied to your letters on this blog. You've pretty much ignored them. Why?
You'll have to ask the others why they defend me. I've been trying to figure that out myself for years. And, I'm very humbled and honored that they do.
And Emma? I'm not the one arguing. And, if I felt I was wrong, I'd admit it, but I'm not about to say I'm wrong when I don't feel as though I am. You seem to want me to lay down my own code of honor so you can jump up and down on it and wave some sort of victory flag. It's just not going to happen.
So, consider you've won. I replied to your post when I said I was no longer going to do so.
Feel better?
At seventeen I tried to kill myself. I went through 3 hospitals and 4 days of sleep before I woke up. Yes, I felt that no one cared about me, my life was useless and I wouldn't be missed. I'm in my 40's now with 3 children I'm so proud of and a man who loves me very much.
I had been in a mental health facility for a year prior to my attempt and thought I'd worked on most everything that was bothering me. I remember thinking my family wouldn't miss me.
I'm so grateful for the medical people who gave me my life back. You have to want the help or it just doesn't work.
I never have sat around and talked about it, I'm too busy loving life.
I'm 29 and have never attempted suicide until this year a couple of months ago. I was on xanax and don't remember much from the night, but I do know that I used a 9mm pistol and shot myself in the face. Now I'm not one to judge, but the fact is I have 3 kids and a wife and would never do anything to hurt them. Now I don't know if it was really a suicide attempt or if the gun got jammed and went off by accident, like I said I can't remember. I know now that the hospital staff did a wonderful job on me. I still don't have any thoughts of suicide or anything like that. BUT I LOVE LIFE......
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