Patients with COVID-19 shouldn’t have to die alone.

Here’s how a loved one could be there at the end

By &

While the number of new COVID-19 cases in Victoria continues to trend downwards, we’re still seeing a significant number of deaths from the disease.

The ongoing outbreaks in aged care, and the fact community transmission is continuing to occur, mean it’s likely there will be many more deaths to come.

As a result of strict infection control measures restricting hospital visitors, tragically, many people who have died from COVID-19 have died alone. Family members have missed out on the opportunity to provide comfort to the dying person, to sit with them at their bedside, and to say goodbye.

But it doesn’t have to be this way. We have cause to consider whether perhaps we could do more to preserve the patient-family connection at the end of life.

Who can visit?

There’s some variation between Victorian health-care facilities in how visitor restrictions are applied. Some allow visitors to enter hospitals for compassionate reasons, such as when a person is dying. But visitors are not permitted for patients with suspected or confirmed COVID-19.

The latest figures show 20 Victorians are in an intensive care unit (ICU) with 13 on a ventilator. This indicates their situation is critical.

Despite hospitals, and particularly ICUs, being adequately prepared and resourced to provide high-level care for people diagnosed with COVID-19, patients will still die.

Family-centred care at the end of life in intensive care is a core feature of nursing care. So in the face of this unprecedented global pandemic, we realised we needed to navigate the rules and restrictions associated with infection prevention and control and find a way to allow families to say goodbye.

Our recommendations

We’ve published a set of practice recommendations to guide critical care nurses in facilitating next-of-kin visits to patients dying from COVID-19 in ICUs. The Australian College of Critical Care Nurses and the Australasian College for Infection Prevention and Control have jointly endorsed this position statement.

The recommendations are evidence-based, reflecting current infection prevention and control directives, and provide step-by-step instructions for facilitating a family visit.

Some of the key recommendations include:

  • family visits should be limited to one person — the next-of-kin — and that person should be well
  • the visitor must be able to drive directly to and from the hospital to limit exposure to others
  • they should dress in single-layer clothing suitable for hot machine wash after the visit, remove jewellery, and carry as few valuables as possible
  • on arrival, staff should prepare the visitor for what they will see when they enter, what they may do, and what they may not do (for example, it would be OK to touch your loved one with a gloved hand)
  • a staff member trained in the use of personal protective equipment (PPE) should assist the visitor to put on PPE (a gown, surgical mask, goggles and gloves) and after the visit, to take it off, dispose of it safely and wash their hands
  • where possible, the visitor should be given time alone with their loved one, with instructions on how to seek staff assistance if necessary.

We also highlight the importance of intensive care staff ensuring emotional support is provided to the family member during and immediately after the visit.

Tailoring the guidance

It’s too early to know the full impact a loved one’s isolated death during COVID-19 may have on next-of-kin and extended family. But the effect is likely to be profound, extending beyond the immediate grief and complicating the bereavement process.

These recommendations are not meant to be prescriptive, nor can they be applied in every circumstance or intensive care setting.

We encourage intensive care teams to consider what will work for their unit and team. This may include considerations such as:

  • whether there are adequate facilities in which the visitor can be briefed and don PPE
  • whether social distancing is possible with current unit occupancy and staffing
  • whether an appropriately skilled clinician is available to coordinate and manage the family visit
  • each patient’s unique clinical and social situation.

Rather than just using a risk-minimisation approach to managing COVID-19, there’s scope for some flexibility and creativity in addressing family needs at the end of life.

Complete Article HERE!

Unpredictability of advanced heart failure complicates end-of-life care, doctors say

Some people with advanced heart failure live for a long time, while others don’t. That uncertain timeline poses challenges for doctors, their patients and families dealing with end-of-life care.

“We’ve had for cancer for many years, which have been used to make sure that end-of-life patients get high-quality care,” said Dr. Rebecca Hutchinson, a hospice and palliative medicine specialist at Maine Medical Center in Portland. “With , we don’t have those indicators.”

That discrepancy motivated Hutchinson and five colleagues to conduct in-depth interviews with 23 cardiologists and across Maine about treating people with advanced failure.

The study, published Monday in the Journal of the American Heart Association, found “prognostic uncertainty” of advanced heart failure complicates how doctors care for patients for several reasons.

“Heart failure is marked by frequent exacerbations where patients can get pretty sick and then recover back to baseline or pretty close back to baseline,” said Hutchinson, who led the study. “At some point, one of those exacerbations usually marks the beginning of end of life, but it’s not always easy to tell. Are you in one that’s close to end of life or are you in one where there’s going to be a recovery?”

That, she said, forces doctors to balance the desire to prolong life against the possibility that more treatment will do no good and cause unnecessary suffering. The uncertainty often makes it harder for patients to recognize the reality of their disease, and harder for doctors to discuss the situation with them, the study found.

“Doctors told us that patients with heart failure frequently don’t realize that this is a terminal disease,” she said. “That makes it harder to have the end-of-life conversations early to make sure we’re giving them care that’s consistent with their values.”

According to American Heart Association statistics, an estimated 6.2 million U.S. adults have heart failure, where the heart cannot pump enough blood to meet the body’s needs. About one-tenth of those are classified as advanced heart failure, where usual treatment is not effective but the remaining life span is hard to predict.

The study also examined differences in urban and rural areas, where patients may have less access to medical specialists and quality in-.

“That’s good and bad,” Hutchinson said. “Patients in tend to have less aggressive (unnecessary) interventions at the end of life, but it’s bad in that they may not have access to life-prolonging therapies.”

Hutchinson said the findings emphasize the need for better methods to calculate a patient’s prognosis and determine a patient’s values so that end-of-life care matches what the patient wants. Regardless, she said, —medical help to relieve the symptoms and stress of a serious illness—should be part of the plan.

“Palliative care really shouldn’t be tied to a prognosis,” Hutchinson said. “A lot of people associate palliative care with end-of-life care and hospice, but it’s really not.”

That point alone makes the study worthwhile, said Dr. Diane Meier, director of the Center to Advance Palliative Care and a professor of geriatrics and palliative medicine at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai in New York City.

While people choosing hospice must agree to relinquish insurance coverage for life-prolonging treatment, she said, “palliative care has no such restrictions. You can get it whether or not your disease can be cured, whether you’re going to live with it for 20 years or whether it’s progressive. Eligibility for palliative care is based on need—symptom distress, family exhaustion, uncertainty about what to expect—and not on prognosis.”

Meier, who was not involved with the new study, said changing the mindset is particularly important for heart patients, who may have years to live but face issues such as depression, anxiety and social withdrawal. She said all of that can be helped by palliative care, which research shows can improve quality of life and symptom control in people with heart failure.

“The important take-home message is we offer both life-prolonging treatment and palliative treatments meant to improve quality of life and day-to-day functioning—at the same time,” she said. “We need to replace our either/or mindset with a both/and model.”

Complete Article HERE!

Dying in Your Mother’s Arms

A palliative care doctor on finding a “good death” for children in the worst situations.

A palliative care doctor on finding a “good death” for children in the worst situations.

by John Beder

If losing a child to an illness is one of the worst things that can happen to a family, Dr. Nadia Tremonti has made it her mission to make it better.

It’s not easy. But as a pediatric palliative care physician, she works to ensure that terminally ill children receive quality end-of-life care. Palliative care is sometimes misunderstood to shorten life expectancy, but it’s a method that increases quality of life, improves symptom burden and decreases medical costs. We follow Dr. Tremonti in the short documentary above as she works to make death less medical and more human. In the process she asks a critical question: When a child is terminally ill, how can we make the end of life a better one?

Complete Article HERE!

How to Say Goodbye When Someone is Dying

By Dr. Lynn Webster

Once, a patient with chronic pain due to an immunodeficiency made an appointment with me to say goodbye. For years, he had received intravenous therapies for his infections, but they had all stopped working. His other doctors had already told him that nothing more could be done, and he had little time left to live. He came to let me know that he appreciated what we had done for him.

It was a surreal moment. The young man wasn’t in agony, and he seemed to be at peace with the inevitability of his death. However, I was caught unprepared. Since I wasn’t sure how to respond, I simply acknowledged his words with a “thank you.” We shook hands and he departed. That was the last time I saw him.

Last week, a colleague of mine sent out an email to a small number of his professional associates. He told us that he is very ill. Clearly, his implicit message was that he might never see us again. 

As I reflected on his message, I felt unprepared again. I wondered how I should respond. How would I say goodbye? Should I even broach the topic? This might be my only chance to let him know that I’d always considered him a mentor. But would he become despondent if I appeared to eulogize him? Would it be hurtful to express my sadness that we might never speak again?

I certainly didn’t want to add to his suffering. Perhaps I should ignore the gravity of his illness and focus on how I hoped he would recover soon.

But that would be dishonest. He is a physician, too, and always modeled treating his patients with empathy and compassion This was the part of his character that I felt most drawn to. He is a doctor who healed as much by listening to his patients than by any other therapy.

Asking the Right Questions

I decided to tell my friend what an important role model he has been for me, but I also had a question for him. Having treated many terminally ill patients, I have learned that most people who are dying have hopes for themselves, as well as the loved ones they are leaving behind. Therefore, I asked my physician friend whether he had any hopes he wanted to share with me. He told me he had two wishes.

“As I have been reflecting upon my personal and professional life, my first hope is that my presence really made a positive difference in people’s lives. That would be my legacy. The outpouring of affection, goodwill and positive comments that I have received from ex-patients, friends, family and colleagues has made it clear that I have succeeded in that,” he said.

My friend also expressed his hope for a change in our political situation. He mentioned the anger, frustration and hopelessness he feels watching American society fall into two warring ideological camps. His hope is that the young people of today will lead us into a better future.

Opportunities for Closure

COVID-19 has forced me to think about the reality that death can catch any of us by surprise.

As I write this, we are in the midst of a pandemic that has infected more than 17 million people and taken more than 680,000 lives worldwide. Many of the COVID-19 victims died alone and didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to their loved ones.

Even in ordinary times, most of us don’t get to say goodbye. We often deny the reality of death as life draws to a close. “You’ll feel better soon,” we say, either to make ourselves feel better or to avoid the topic. Even when we are allowed to be at the bedside of someone who is dying, we often lack the courage to convey our true feelings. Honesty can be too painful during those moments.

I remember saying goodbye to my dying father. Lying with him on his bed in his home, I asked my father if he was afraid. Many of us refrain from expressing grief at moments like that, because we worry that we might make the dying person feel worse. But I could not keep from crying.

In The Four Things That Matter Most, author Ira Byock, MD, identifies the messages he considers most important to communicate to loved ones near the end of life: “Please forgive me. I forgive you. Thank you. I love you.” Expressing these sentiments can help create a sense of mutual peace and completion.

Saying goodbye does not wish death on anyone. It acknowledges the richness of the relationship that has been. That is what I felt when I told my dad I loved him, which at the time was my way of saying goodbye. It is also how I felt when I brought closure to the relationship with my friend who emailed me.

Congressman John Lewis, the noted civil rights leader, expressed hope for the future in a New York Times op-ed published shortly after his July 17th death. He said, “Though I am gone, I urge you to answer the highest calling of your heart and stand up for what you truly believe.”

Perhaps we should consider following Lewis’s example. By daring to acknowledge what is happening and to say goodbye, we are bravely addressing the highest calling of our hearts. We also have the opportunity to honor all those who touched us and made us who we are.

Complete Article HERE!

Patients overestimate the success of CPR

Doctors should discuss CPR to clarify and inform patients before they consent to it, say researchers

Patients and the general public appear to significantly overestimate the success of cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR) and underestimate the negative impact it can have on a person’s health, suggests research published online in Emergency Medicine Journal.

US researchers have therefore recommended clinicians discuss CPR with patients and their loved ones to clarify the practice’s success rate and the real benefits and risks involved before patients or their families are asked to consent to it.

Emergency physicians often talk to patients or their families about end-of-life care and the outcomes of resuscitation efforts. Patient and family preconceptions of CPR can have a significant effect on the tone of discussions and the subsequent medical care provided.

Previous studies have shown that most lay people overestimate the success of CPR and underestimate its morbidity but no studies on the subject have been carried out amongst patients and visitors in an emergency department.

Patients in previous studies have cited television as a large source of their belief that rates of survival after CPR vary between 19% and 75%, whereas actual rates of survival of CPR range from an average of 12% for out-of-hospital cardiac arrests to 24-40% for in-hospital arrests.

Therefore, a team of researchers from the University of California in the US carried out a survey of 500 emergency department patients and their companions to assess their expectations and examine whether or not variation in information sources, prior exposure to CPR, and healthcare experience would influence peoples’ predicted CPR success rates.

The survey was carried out amongst adults in the emergency department waiting area within a tertiary care hospital in Sacramento, California, between June and September 2016.

An “optimism scale” was created to reflect expected likelihood of survival after CPR, or CPR success, under several sets of circumstances.

Results showed that of the 500 respondents, more than half (53%) had performed or witnessed CPR, and/or participated in a CPR course (64%).

Television was the main source of information about CPR for around 95% of respondents.

At least half of the people interviewed estimated the success rate of CPR as being more than 75% in all situations. The estimated CPR success rates were unrelated to age, sex, race, spiritual beliefs or personal healthcare experience.

The vast majority (90%) of people interviewed said they wanted to receive CPR if it was possibly needed.

Comments also revealed that only 28% of respondents had discussed CPR with a physician, but most participants believed that a physician should talk to them about their CPR preference.

The study had some limitations such as the fact that it took place at a single institution and for convenience, the sample only included English speakers which limits the generalisability of findings. Some participants might also have been distracted by illness or the emergency department waiting area environment.

Nevertheless, the researchers conclude: “Patients and visitors to an emergency department, regardless of prior healthcare or CPR experience, overestimate the likelihood of success with CPR.

“These findings should prompt emergency department physicians to initiate discussions about resuscitation with their patients while also providing them with key information to help facilitate informed decision-making.

“When discussing CPR preferences, emergency department providers should focus on true rates of survival and outcomes in any shared decision-making conversation and should not assume that a patient or companion with healthcare experience will have realistic expectations.”

Related Article HERE!

‘I Couldn’t Let Her Be Alone’

– A Peaceful Death Amid the COVID Scourge

Patti Breed-Rabitoy had coped with lung and kidney disease for years but remained a vital, bubbly presence in the lives of her husband, Dan Rabitoy, and three grown children.

By JoNel Aleccia

As her mother lay dying in a Southern California hospital in early May, Elishia Breed was home in Oregon, 800 miles away, separated not only by the distance, but also by the cruelty of the coronavirus.

Because of the pandemic, it wasn’t safe to visit her mom, Patti Breed-Rabitoy, who had entered a hospital alone, days earlier, with a high fever and other symptoms that were confirmed to be caused by COVID-19.

Breed-Rabitoy, 69, had suffered from lung and kidney disease for years but remained a vital, bubbly presence in the lives of her husband, Dan Rabitoy, and three grown children. She was a longtime church deacon and youth leader in Reseda, California, a fan of garage sales, bingo games and antique dolls. Then came COVID-19, likely contracted in late April following one of her thrice-weekly dialysis sessions. Now she lay sedated and on a ventilator, her life ebbing, with no family by her side.

“I had seen these things on TV and I would pray for those people and say, ‘I can’t imagine what they’re going through,’” said Breed, 44. “And now I was living it.”

A single mom of two young sons, she was wrenched with guilt at not being with her mother. “You always picture you’re going to be right by your parent’s side,” she said.

Unlike many families of dying COVID patients, Breed and her family were able to find some comfort in her mother’s final hours because of the 3 Wishes Project, a UCLA Health end-of-life program repurposed to meet the demands of the coronavirus crisis. In the U.S., where more than 120,000 people have died of COVID, it’s part of a wider push for palliative care during the pandemic.

At 5 p.m. on May 10, Mother’s Day, before Breed-Rabitoy’s life support was removed, more than a dozen family members from multiple cities and states gathered on a Zoom call to say goodbye. John Denver’s “Rocky Mountain High,” one of her soft-rock ’70s favorites, played on speakers. Online, a chaplain prayed.

Breed-Rabitoy had been deeply sedated for more than a week, since a terrible night when she struggled to breathe and asked doctors to place her on the ventilator. Confusion abounded, Breed said. Could her mom still hear in that state? Two nights in a row, Breed asked nurses to prop a phone near her mom’s ear.

“I prayed with her. I sang her favorite songs. I read her the Bible,” she said.

Finally, a nurse gently explained that her mother was too sick to recover. If they removed the ventilator, it would be to allow her to die.

That’s when hospital staffers described the 3 Wishes program and asked whether the family had any personal requests for her last moments. They decided on the music and the family Zoom call. Dan Rabitoy requested that a nurse hold his wife’s hand as she died.

After it was over, family members received keychains stamped with her fingerprint and a copy of the electrocardiogram of the last beats of her heart.

“I’m grateful to have these keepsakes,” Breed said. “All these things have been healing.”

The project was developed in Canada but co-launched at UCLA Health in 2017 by Dr. Thanh Neville, an intensive care physician who serves as 3 Wishes’ medical director. It aims to make the end of life more dignified and personalized by fulfilling small requests for dying patients and their families in the ICU.

Before COVID-19, the program had granted nearly 1,600 wishes for more than 450 patients, nearly all in person. The deathbed scenarios have varied, from music and aromatherapy at the bedside to meeting a patient’s request for one last mai tai cocktail.

“We’ve done weddings and mariachi bands and opera singers and 20 to 30 family members who could come in and celebrate,” said Neville, 41. “And none of this is possible anymore.”

COVID-19 has “changed everything,” said Neville, a researcher who focuses on improving ICU care for the dying. Also a clinician, she spent weeks this spring tending to seriously ill COVID patients. Since March, her hospital system has seen more than two dozen COVID deaths.

In the beginning, visitors were strictly prohibited. Now, some may come — but many don’t.

“I would still say the majority of COVID patients die without families at their bedside,” Neville said. “There are a lot of reasons why they can’t come in. Some are sick or old or they have small kids. A lot of people don’t want to take that risk and bring it home.”

It has been hard to keep 3 Wishes going during a time when in-person memorials and celebrations are banned and infection control remains the primary focus. Neville even had to change the way the fingerprint keychains were made. Now, they’re treated with germicidal irradiation, the same method that lets health care workers reuse N95 masks.

The 3 Wishes Project is offered when death is imminent: Patients are enrolled after a decision has been made to withdraw life-sustaining technology or if the chance of death is greater than 95%. The program was created to help patients, caregivers and clinicians navigate the dying process in a less clinical, more humane way. Wishes needn’t be limited to three, and they can be articulated by patients, family members or hospital staffers.

The program is based on palliative care tenets that focus on the humanity of the patient amid intensive medical care, said Dr. Rodney Tucker, president of the American Academy of Hospice and Palliative Medicine. Seemingly small acts that honor an individual life help counter the efficiency-driven environment of the ICU, which can be dehumanizing. They’re at the core of care that has been shown to ease both angst for the dying and grief for those who loved them. “It helps the family that’s left behind cope more successfully with the loss,” he said.

Such efforts also remind providers of the humanity of their practice, which can help them cope with the stress of witnessing death daily, especially during something as extraordinary as a pandemic, he said.

A study published by Neville and colleagues last year found that 3 Wishes is a “transferrable, affordable, sustainable program” that benefits patients, families, clinicians and their institutions. They calculated that the mean cost of a single wish, funded by grants and donations, was $5.19.

Genevieve Arriola, 36, has been a critical care nurse for eight years. When the pandemic struck, she found herself juggling medical care and emotional support more than ever. She took care of Breed-Rabitoy for three days straight, all the while communicating with the dying woman’s family.

“This was a very delicate situation for someone who is married to her for over 20 years and a daughter who was miles away in Oregon and couldn’t see her mom,” she said.

She was also the nurse who held Breed-Rabitoy’s hand as she died.

“I pretty much felt honored to be that person,” Arriola said. “I couldn’t let her be alone. If no one can be there, I can.”

Weeks after her mother’s death, Breed is grappling with the loss. The last time she saw her mom was March 16, at a McDonald’s off Interstate 5 near Grants Pass, Oregon.

The pair met for less than 30 minutes before Breed-Rabitoy headed south down the interstate, her long-planned family visit cut short by concerns about COVID. She had just learned that the local dialysis center was closed to outside patients, and she was worried about growing reports of infection and death. “She told me, ‘I feel like this disease is coming after me,’” Breed recalled.

Now, the keepsakes from 3 Wishes are placed where Breed can see them every day.

“It added such a level of love and dignity we weren’t expecting,” she said. “It made the process of losing a loved one to COVID-19 so much more bearable.”

Complete Article HERE!

How I Spent My Summer Vacation 2020

Only the most avid readers of this blog may recall a similarly titled posting, How I Spent My Summer Vacation, from August 1, 2016.

St. Joseph Hospital Main Campus

Well, here it is nearly five years later and I have another harrowing experience to tell you about.

Three months ago, I started having some pain in my left shoulder while walking. (Actually, the shoulder pain started three years ago. But after a stress test scheduled by my GP a year ago, to confirm if this was discomfort was heart related, and the test coming back negative, I decided that the pain was structural. I just figured that I had bursitis.) In fact, all symptoms disappeared after the stress test. Go figure!

Anyhow, the shoulder pain reappeared in March. This time around, it began to radiate down my arm. Soon I couldn’t do any kind of walking, let alone hiking, without discomfort. This was a bit of a problem because I’m an avid walker. Two months ago, the shoulder pain began to radiate not only down my arm but into my arm pit and then into my chest and back.

By this time even I knew that this wasn’t no stinkin’ bursitis.

At the behest of my GP, I reached out to my cardiologist again. I had just had a major pain episode that nearly brought me to my knees, and I wanted his input. At the appointment the cardiologist showed only minor concern. He said he wanted me to do another stress test in 30 days and then see him again in six weeks, the end of July. I couldn’t believe it. I was exhibiting all the classic symptoms of angina and I thought I needed more than a promise of a stress test and a follow visit.

At the end of the appointment, as the doctor was leaving the exam room, I said; “What am I supposed to do about all this crippling pain?” “Oh,” he replied, “I’ll write you a prescription for nitro glycerin. When you begin to experience pain, pop a tab under your tongue. This will give you relief.” And so, it did. It was kinda miraculous actually.

Problem was, I needed to pop a tab at least once a day, often twice a day.

When my GP discovered that I was doing so much nitro, he became very proactive. He ordered a chest x-ray, a CT scan, and some blood work. He wanted to rule out lung problems among other things.

When my first nitro glycerin script was nearly exhausted, I call the cardiologist for a refill. His nurse freaked out at the amount of nitro I was taking and said; “Nitro glycerin is supposed to be used sparingly, for emergencies.” I replied; “Well, then I’m having emergencies each and every day, and often twice a day.”

Apparently, this nurse’s concern lit a fire under my cardiologist. She told me that the doctor now wanted me to skip the stress test, still weeks in the future, and come in for an angiogram. He had an opening on July 2nd. Could I last two more weeks? I didn’t think so.

Meanwhile, my GP wanted me to consult with another cariology practice in Bellingham, 45 miles from where I live. Since I had lost all confidence in the local cardiologist, I agreed. In a matter of hours, I was set up with the PeaceHealth cardiology practice. I was to call the next day and set up an appointment with the next available cardiologist. Things were that critical. Last Friday morning I called and set up an appointment for the following Tuesday.

PeaceHealth Logo

My GP also insisted that I call 911 if my pain increased.

That night, Friday night, it did. Despite popping two nitro glycerin tabs in three hours I was still in acute pain and short of breath.

At about 10:30pm I woke up Steve and asked him to drive me to Emergency Receiving at Island Hospital.

Once in the ER, I was immediately strapped to a heart monitor, blood was drawn, and arrangements were made to medivac me to St Joseph Hospital in Bellingham. The first blood test revealed normal levels of the cardiac enzyme which measures the levels of enzymes and proteins that are linked with injury of the heart muscle. I thought that was good news. Four hours later, still in the Island Hospital ER, there was another blood draw. This time the cardiac enzyme reading had spiked. The doctor told me I must have had a heart attack in the interim.

I languished for ten hours in the Island Hospital ER. They were having a problem finding transportation to Bellingham.

At 9:30am Saturday morning I was finally on my way to St. Joe’s.

Once there, I was placed in the Cardiac ICU where I was poked and prodded to within an inch of my life. I also got an echocardiogram. I had had no food or water since the previous evening. I was exhausted and, I’ll admit, frightened.

Being the good little end of life educator that I am, I had the foresight to bring along a copy of my POLST (Physician Orders for Life-Sustaining Treatment) form. The ICU nurses were so surprised that I had this important document with me. They said they never see patients being this proactive.

At the top of the POLST form, the very first question asked is about Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation Orders. One can either choose: YES CPR: Attempt Resuscitation, including mechanical ventilation, defibrillation and cardioversion (or) NO CPR: Do Not Attempt Resuscitation. I had chosen the second, NO CPR. I hadn’t come to this decision lightly, but it did reflect my deepest held feelings about end of life care for myself.

Later that afternoon I had my first encounter with the cardiac surgeon. He sauntered into my room as brusque as you please and announced that he wouldn’t even consider the life-saving treatment I needed, an angioplasty, if I didn’t change my POLST form to allow a full code should complications arise during the procedure. I was absolutely stunned! I was being held hostage at this most vulnerable point of my life. And for what?

Cardiac surgeons are at the pinnacle of the medical pantheon and most have egos that surpass their bountiful skills. They almost never encounter resistance from anyone, least of all from a lowly patient. But I stood my ground.

“Are you telling me that you won’t save my life if I don’t grant you a full code?”

He responded; “Yes, my hands are tied.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. I tried to explain why I had chosen the DNR (Do Not Resuscitate). He just blew me off. He was so condescending and patronizing. My efforts to defend my choices fell on deaf ears. I could just imagine him thinking; how adorable is this? A layman trying to play doctor with the big boys? The standoff continued.

“Why do we even have POLST forms?” I asked.

“They are for emergencies.” He responded.

“So, and EMT (Emergency Medical Technician) or an ER doc would be constrained by my POLST, but not you, a cardiologist? I see! Actually, I don’t see. This is ridiculous.”

He just stared at me.

You know how this is gonna end, huh?

In the end I sheepshly relented. What could I do? I was so bummed.

The cardiologist walked out of the room without another word and I had no idea where I stood.

Hours later, I asked one of the nurses; “Will I be getting the angiogram, or not?” He didn’t have an answer. Nothing like adding anxiety to an already overburdened heart.

Around 6:00pm two burly nurses stopped outside my room with a gurney. “Let’s get you up here.” One said pointing to the gurney. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Time for your angioplasty.” And just like that I was wheeled off.

I guess it was determined that my case was critical, and no time could be wasted in attending to me, POLST form be damned. My echocardiogram showed a major blockage in my already weakened heart. An hour and a half later I was the recipient of two brand-spankin’ new heart stints, don’t cha know.

Heart Stent

I’ll spare you the gory details of my recovery. I’ve gone on too long already. Suffice to say that with the assistance of a cohort of amazing nurses and other support staff, I am here to relate this story to you. God bless ‘em all!

There are a lot of lessons to be learned here, not least of all is our right to choose the end of life path we desire despite the pressures of conflicting interests. And how we ought to stick to our guns because our wishes are sacred all bullying aside. But the biggest lesson and…

The Moral Of This Story Is
My friends, life is short! Live every day like it’s your last. Be kind to yourself and those around you. Because, in a twinkling of an eye, it can and WILL be over.

The End