Death hit me after 48 hours

Missing you Mama and Papa.

I lost my Mama in 2008 and my Papa in 2013. Those losses were heartbreaking and I admit I have not fully grieved by the death of my parents. It remains painful; however, this kind of pain, is something that you will have for the rest of your life but you learn to live with it. There is still that mix of guilt and anxiety in me that I kept for a few years. To be honest I avoid dealing with them. Those things are haunting me every time I heard of a death or I have to pronounce death in my workplace. Oddly, I am a nurse.

In 2007, my mother was diagnosed with Stage 4 lung cancer. I went to the doctor with her one May afternoon when the doctor talked about the diagnosis. She asked me, “ What is next after stage 4?” I cried when she asked me. I realized that although she partly knows the extent of her illness, she was holding on to something, I must say a little hope and courage. I said, “Mama, that is it, it is the very last stage.” We both cried.

She had one cycle of chemotherapy. It was hard when we decided to do her first cycle of chemotherapy. We had to scour money from friends, families, and acquaintances. We had to sell some of her jewelry to be able to come up with the money. When we were planning on the second round of chemotherapy, which is after 4-6 months, she decided she would not do it. It was sort of a relief, on my end and my siblings because we do not know where to find the money, but at the same time, we were very sad knowing that her death is imminent. So she decided to go back to her hometown as she said, “ Uwi na ako kina Mamay and Papay.” We agreed with her decision, after all, it was her decision to make. She probably thought that her time was coming and the consolation was to go home to be with her parents.

I felt guilty because I was a new graduate nurse and I was unable to care for my sick parent. My thought process was I needed to earn money so I can assist my family with food, rent, and helping out with Mama’s end of life needs. She did not last. I received a phone call from my brave youngest brother who took care of Mama until she passed away on August 10th of 2008. I still recall my sister's cry when I told her the news. It still breaks my heart.

Fast-forward to 2013, I had a fabulous vacation in Manila in January 2013 and I know it was not perfect because we were dealing with my father’s second wife. I would say it was a shit show and I am not ashamed of calling it that. I believe it was bogus and that my dad was scammed. I was not sure what the intentions were but I take that she had an ulterior motive. My father was a health-conscious man, I remember him biking from Dimasalang, Pasay City to Tanza, Cavite for work. He was truly inspiring, remarkable and a very kind man. Both my parents were. They sacrificed so much just to be able to provide for us. He had some blood pressure concerns, but it was not a major issue, but of course, given the diagnosis of his stroke, it was attributed to his sudden demise. I came back to Canada after my 5-week vacation and 6 weeks after I received that phone call that he passed. We fought so hard for him. I was not able to go home because of the monetary issue. There was no winning. If I go home, it would mean that I would see him, but no one is going to be able to provide money for his ICU cost. If I do not go home, it would mean someone is able to provide money for his rising hospital bill. For me that would better the chance of possibly having him back. It also meant I would not see him. He passed and I was not able to go home.

Guilt it is. I have never seen my parents when they were dying and I never get to practice therapeutic conversation skills that I learned in nursing school. Nor able to sit down and hold their hands. I never did those but I get to do those to my patients. I have had my share of tears and hugs from family members which I so want to give to my parents when they were on their death bed but I guess I had to make a choice. Or was it the right choice? I helped out at home. I know that they probably just want me to be there and not slave myself at work. See how guilt is playing in my head. I am sure they appreciate my contributions, but I know that I should have been there. My eldest brother reminded me and it diminishes the guilt when I think about it, “Do not go home, just keep the memory you had with him when you visited rather than coming home again and get sad when you go back to Canada.” It makes me cry. Still does.

Sunset at Judson Lake Abbotsford, BC

Another, fast forward to 2019, it has only been the 2nd day of 2019. We had a sudden death at work, one of the residents passed away in her sleep at the age of 57. She was a very lively soul and I would say she was the face of my workplace. Everyone was shocked by the news. I saw most of the care aides crying and also the nurses. Some were working with heavy hearts that morning of the 2nd. With those deaths that I had, I learned that death is “It is what it is” but there is so much more to death. It includes emotion, love, and compassion. On that day, I was a heartless bitch, I even told my co-worker, “ I am not dealing with emotional people today, so please deal with them.”

" When people die, they cannot be replaced. They leave holes that cannot be filled, for it is the fate- the genetic and neural fate- of every human being to be a unique individual, to find his own path, to live his own life, to die his own death."- Oliver Sacks

After 48 hours, it finally hit me, my job as a Care Coordinator is supervisory in nature, and that day I was ready to update the list of the residents just because I wanted to have a new set out for myself and for my audit binders. I saw her name, I pointed the cursor to her name. I felt my right-hand shaking and highlighted her name. I could not do it. I literally did not have the heart and bravery to delete her name and then I started crying. "She's not dead yet, she's still alive, I can't remove her name." Sobbing uncontrollably, I had my friend Marge, consoled me. Take note, before, I was fearless removing names, changed it to the name of the new patient that is now occupying their bed.

I was puzzled with my delayed reaction? I recognized sadness when it comes to me, but one thing that I was not cognizant of the day was the meaning of death to the people surrounding me. I was ignoring the gloomy working atmosphere knowing that after a few days it will subside. My parents' death had taught me to be hard, wherein I should not have been. I should have shown more compassion when it is needed not because I am a supervisor but because I am human. I neglected kindness. I shrugged off other people's feelings because of my own mishap. My delayed reaction, I must say was because of the years of not properly grieving and acknowledging the pain I have. Writing this, I can't stop crying because it is giving me flashbacks of the wonderful moments I had with my parents, remembering their smile. I will keep those and hopefully celebrate death.

The message is simple, I did not need the 48 hours to contemplate on what and how I should feel. It was the years of not dealing with my affliction. Death should bring you closer to the people you love and most importantly to others who were part of that person's journey. It was an enormous privilege to be surrounded by kind, empathetic and compassionate healthcare workers. After all, I am one of them.