Eulogy

During intern year, I have taken care of many patients who passed away. For some, I called the time of death, comforted family, squeezed the patient's hand. I called the coroner, wrote the death note, called the attending. Other patients passed away after I left service; for some, this was unexpected, and for others it was a matter of time. These patients are harder to recall - after I leave a service, my working memory gets filled with a new set of patients. But occasionally, I run into my succeeding co-interns and ask about shared names and learn of what happened. Yet other patients have made it out of the hospital, and some die at home, occasionally on hospice, occasionally not. Over the year, I have seen many patients with terminal illnesses and learned a lot about end-stage heart, lung, liver, neurologic, and oncologic diseases.

This is a post in honor of them. These are the patients who submitted themselves to my care as a new doctor. They are patients who shared their final moments, fears, and sorrow with me. They are patients who opened up about what they want at the very end, who struggled with me at fighting overwhelming illness, who may have suffered by my hand. For some who kept up a fight, I asked them to undergo tests, painful procedures, medications with harsh side effects. For those who stopped aggressive care, I asked them to yield to the grief of closure and saying goodbye. I thank these people. It is a rare thing, to be present at that time in someone's life (or death), to be trusted, to make decisions that feel so much gravity. It would be so easy to omit such reflection at the end of the year - to just scamper off to parties in the sunset - but I would be remiss if I did not say: I've struggled with the concept of death and dying for years, and during this internship, I had to confront these issues with patients, and I thank them for allowing me to do so.