In Flanders fields the poppies blow

[topaz]

My dear friend docorion, an ER doctor, recently posted this extraordinary essay on death and his relationship to it.

I tried to write a better introduction, but he has left me tongue-tied.  So all I can say is: You should go read it.  Now.

Always say the word "Dead" when you pass this news. Be kind, be compassionate, but be clear -- this is no time for euphemisms. Dead is dead; it's not "passed away" or "expired" or any other weasel-worded expression. If you don't say the word to start, you will have to eventually, because until you say it, no one will believe it. That is the real "power over life and death" doctors have. We pronounce it, not to the patient, but to the still living, who would otherwise not believe.

Comments

[wolfkitn.livejournal.com]

Thank you for the pointer, and also for the subject line of your post... sad, but wonderful memories come to mind by recalling that poem.

[agaran.livejournal.com]

Puts me in mind of an episode of "Grey's Anatomy" in which a new intern, working on an incoming apparently dead patient in the ER, is instructed by his seasoned supervising resident to employ heroic measures, even though it's so so clear that the patient is DOA. He can't figure out why she's so adamant about it, and resists, and is lackluster in his lifesaving measures, and can't figure it out. Finally he's permitted to "call it," records the time of death...

...and then has to walk out to confront the victim's family, at which moment he gets it. The only way he can look into their eyes without guilt, clear-eyed, in that ultimate encounter to inform them of the death of their loved one, is if, when he says, "We did everything we could," they can see he's not dissembling.

[lady-mishegas.livejournal.com]

Beautiful piece. Thank you so much for reposting it.