To be told it's the end.

Her eyes are a pool of tears

She can't look at her mom. 

They told her it was over. They told her comfort measures were being initiated. They told her further medical interventions may worsen the situation.

She yells in her native tongue. Her eyes form a lake of tears as her mascara leaks down her cheeks. She throws her hands up in despair. She says her mom was walking just a week ago. Today her mom needs to be fed. She says her mom was talking rationally, today an interpreter is called to translate the occasional jargon that  rolls off her tongue. She says her mom was cleaning herself. Today her bedside reeks of sweat and urine. It's takes 2 of us to wash her down.  She was a pediatrician in her native country, today I hand her, her medications with an explanation of its purpose prior to administering. 

We are sitting in one room; the interdisciplinary medical team. We were looking at a clinical scenario, but now are faced with the emotions, and the life attached to it. We are all professionals who see the clinical picture. We have gathered together to patch up our different observations of this specific case in junction with our background knowledge bases regarding similar  clinical cases. 

Medicine is largely based on speculation, often trial and error. Cancer, the epidemic of the 21st century; that unpredictable  sudden cell growth that aggressively intrudes a body's organs. It's unknown direction and spurt of growth that ensues a sea of interruptions to that perfectly fitted map of organs still remains a mystery in each organism it attacks. 

This mystery of cell growth intrudes a person's life, plays with their emotions, and shatters lifelong relationships.

 The textbooks say that the first stage of such grief is often expressed as denial; today I heard, saw, and felt those expressions of denial displayed via the family members behavior. The crying, the yelling, the cursing, the unrealistic expectations and suggestions.  

     I felt some of her pain. It was impossible not to. Her pain filled every crack of that meeting room. 
     That day I realized that although as health care workers we must provide the facts as much as it may hurt, as a nurse I can attempt to cushion those harsh facts by showing my devotion to the dying family member.  Perhaps as I showed the family member as I cleaned, fed, re-positioned her family member for comfort, held her hand and spoke softly; I was able to place a small cushion of pain relief to the emotional stress she was going through by demonstrating that people cared. 

As healthcare providers we must display the painful facts, but must also baste it with compassionate care and emotional comfort.