How To Give Your Hospice Nurse A Stroke (or at least a mild heart attack)

The niece who was the primary caregiver of a long ago patient and I were standing at his bedside talking after I called her in following his expiration. As I was telling her what his last moments were like she suddenly jumped back and with her hands in front of her mouth and almost in a shrieking voice said,"He's alive! He's breathing! He's breathing!" Very calmly and professionally I swallowed my tongue and said,"What?!" while dropping both my stethoscope and drink to the floor. Of course- he was long dead, his body rapidly cooling and his color turning to a lovely shade of pale gray with a purple/blue lip color an emo kid would die for- but, in that second- time seemed to stop then go backward to me literally jumping through hoops like a circus dog- although the circus was nursing school and I was doing it for my clinical instructor while she laughed like the devil and fire shot up all around her while her pointed tail flicked back and forth over her head. Then time shot forward to a courtroom where a smug lawyer who looked about 12 years old pointed to me and said,"This nurse- if you want to call him that called this lovely, devastated family to the bedside as they rested in a nearby waiting room from their days long vigil at the patients bedside and said,"He's dead, dead, dead and laughed at their pain! But, being such a terrible nurse and human being the patient was alive and in fact made a full recovery and in fact is sitting here in this court room ladies and gentlemen!" while there I sat in a chair between the judge and jury looking greener than that patient, sweat spraying from under my hairline like a slapstick comedy character. Then forward a little further and the Board Of Nursing reps come to my home personally in their brown uniforms with crossed hammers inside an Obama O patches on the sleeves and begin stripping me of my identification badge, pens, light and stethoscope while saying,"You don't deserve to wear these!" ripping them off my scrubs and throwing them in a pile at my feet. Then time flashes forward again and I see myself feeding my children out of a dumpster...

Then I snap out of it, put one of my hands on his chest to show I'm taking her concern seriously and checking to make sure he's gone and the other on her shoulder for comfort and to get her attention and say,"Lori, even though in some ways you were ready for him to go- you and he were very important to each other and it's hard to grasp he's gone. I understand. This happens a lot. We are used to seeing people breathing and part of us may be wanting so hard for it to be true it even looks like they are breathing but, no he's gone. I checked and rechecked already to make sure but, he's gone and I'm sorry."

I then left the room to give her and her mom some time with the body to calm themselves and reassure each other while beginning to try and come to terms with their loss.