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I try all I can, what more is there to do?
Why, lets intubate! And get a ventilator too!
One Pressor, Two Pressor, Three Pressor, Four
There's nothing left to pump into you any more
Five fluids, six fluids, seven bags and eight
yet your foley output shows naught all night.

You lie there listless in bed
and here I am at my wits end.
Surrounded by all of modern medicine's marvels
and with nothing to show for all our travails

The only saving grace, if any
Was that you passed from this world surrounded by family
As cruel and abrupt as was your passing
I can only hope the final battle was worth the living.

I'm tired. My feet hurt. My back aches. My mind is fatigued.
And yet, the thought remains - "what if I'd done this or that or something more?!"
A wise colleague imparts sage advice
"Hindsight never resurrected the dead"...

... and then after a pause, added:
"Go home! Get some sleep. I'll see you back tonight..."

And so I go home to toss and turn
and snatch fits of sleep
For return I must in the morrow
back to earn my keep.

To dance that dance once again
Against that ancient and final foe
We may win or we may loose
But the dance is one we cannot choose

- © Spook, RN [June 2009]