The phone rings at the desk where I'm sitting: "you should come down here".
"Okay, I'll be there in about 5 minutes, I'm just finishing up." The fun part of my job is that you can't always say what your doing to substantiate the need for extra time, you just have to say when you can get there. I think 5 minutes is too long, but with the person I am sitting across from it is not enough time.
After 5 minutes, I grab my keys and go downstairs into the ED. In our trauma room there are two slight women (mom and her daughter), both dressed in black, hovering over a man (mom's husband) who is boarded and collared on the guerney. "He's going to be flown out" the Charge Nurse tells me. At the same time comes the confirmation of this by the unit secretary who confirms "the helicopter's going to be here in 25 minutes".
Mom looks extremely tired, like she hasn't had a good night's sleep in weeks and hasn't had a nice, relaxing dinner in quite awhile either. I ask "is there anything I can get for you?" which transcends to the question of whether I can get them a bottle of wine - "and an IV" (jokes her daughter). They both laugh before quickly getting back down to the seriousness of her husband's illness. "We've been doing this for several years" his wife says. She describes the long battle her husband has with cancer and the uncomfortable routine they have developed with hospitals, physicians and their care. She tells me about the time he was at Hopkins and she had fallen asleep in a chair that they had pulled out for her in the room where he was staying. "In the middle of the night, someone came and wrapped a warm blanket around my shoulders". I suspected she had spent many nights in the hospital where he was - maintaining her vigilance over her husband; her 'true north'.
"He's a fighter, I've never heard him complain about any of it - any of the symptoms he has or the pain he is in; he just keeps going - his mental strength is amazing and he's such a wonderful man."
She looks carefully at him - consciously lying on the stretcher - boarded and collared after falling and hitting his head. Her daughter steps away from his room with her husband for a few minutes leaving her mother and I speaking quietly about the condition of our patient. "I'm scared" she says quietly, affirming that she has always fought right along with him but this time, something seems different. She has been tightly holding my hand for a minute or two and I just want to give her a huge hug and not let her go and tell her that it's all going to be okay and her husband is going to be fine...
but I can't, so I don't.
Instead, we have a conversation about the art of "knowing" - energetically knowing when it's time to have the conversations you need to have but for now, this time, just relying on the legacy of your family. "Sometimes the stress in caring for those we love comes and goes - when you feel like you're running out of strength and having trouble navigating everything that's going on, it's okay to rely on the legacy of who you are as a family to pull you through". - Important to rely on the collaborative strength "of all of you because if one person is struggling to cope, together, you can still get through whatever you need to." We discussed the upcoming events that were going on in their family and how the members of her family could help manage the events taking place with her husband on his way to an intensive inpatient stay.
I ask her and her daughter if they need directions to get to the hospital where we are transferring out patient. They laugh - "no, we know how to get there - several different ways...driving backwards". The strength of their routine was evident - as is the love for for their husband and father.
The helicopter had arrived and they were transitioning him from his ED bed to their stretcher.
I went into the kitchen to get them a few bottles of water for their trip to the hospital. I had asked if they wanted fruit or something to eat on the way: "No" patient's daughter answered, "we're okay - I'm getting really good at forcing her to eat and I'm more then willing to stop along the way if we have to". - I remembered a time my mother and I had gone to eat when my dad was in the hospital in Boston with his autoimmune illness. The food at the hospital was phenomenal and they had some Asparagus soup that we came to love, but the day he was admitted, we sat across from each other trying to figure out how to manage what had happened.
At that time, food was a chore.
I saw the same look in her mother as I had seen in mine over 10 years ago at that restaurant in the Brigham. It didn't matter what was on the plate in front of you - could've been lobster or a great rib eye - it just wouldn't matter, nothing was appealing.
I handed the bottles of water to our patient's daughter. Mom walked forward to kiss her husband before leaving. As she exited the room, she grabbed my hand - "thank you" she said. I gave her a hug "drive safe and try to get some sleep". Seeing the look in her eyes made me want to just go somewhere quiet in the hospital and have a good cry and say a prayer for them - but (unfortunately), that part of our hospital is still under construction. - So I go to the second best place - a quiet hallway where no one ever goes.
Leaving the department I look out the door to see if I can see them, but they are gone and all I can see is the group of people in the front lobby watching to see the helicopter take off.
Here's the top 5 things we've learned as a family in coping with cancer and the other autoimmune illnesses that have come our way:
1. Develop a routine. The more comfortable the routine is, the less you have to worry about external (outside of healthcare, treatment and symptom management) stress getting in your way.
2. Keep track of all of the "tried and failed" medications or care so that you don't have to repeat things that have already been unsuccessful.
3. If the neighbors ask if they can bring food - don't say "no" - accept all offers because thinking about what to cook for dinner is brain energy better spent at the hospital.
4. Have a plan, as a family. Know who has the power of attorney and phone numbers and contact information for all physicians, offices and hospitals. Get to know all of the providers who are caring for your loved one and don't hesitate to ask questions about anything from side effects of medications to the prognosis for the illness.
5. What's the identity of your family? What are the strengths that each of you bring to the table and how can you support each other during stressful times? A little insight into this now will serve you well with any stress that may come your way - use your collaborative strength but also pay attention to those times when there are moments to have tough conversations about decisions that may need to be made.