a woman called tonight.

her husband is the patient, she said he was having shortness of breath.

check on the diagnosis, it's fourth stage lung cancer.

ironically, he's four days past his prognosis.

his lips and fingers are turning blue.

she started to cry, she said he was gasping for air.

he has oxygen in the home but doesn't like the canula.

she called his name two times, the second time almost shouting.

then she said that she thinks he's gone.

i let her cry for a minute, told her i'm so sorry for her loss, i know she is suffering, i'll send the nurse right away.

'don't send the nurse yet', she said.

my heart breaks for her. for legal purposes, ma'am, i have to send the nurse, he has to be pronounced. do you just not want to speak with the nurse right now?

'no it's not that. i just don't want them to take him yet.'

i tell her that i understand, but not to worry, after the nurse gets there, we'll just wait to call the coroner until she is ready.

she agrees.

i ask her if she wants to stay on the line while i page the nurse or if she would like to disconnect, she opts for staying on until she knows when the nurse will be there.

after i page the nurse, i get back on the line and ask her if there is anything else i can do while we're waiting to hear back. she says she's fine. i put her back on hold.

two minutes later, i check back and tell her i'm still waiting for the nurse to call back. she asks, 'why is it taking so long?'

i tell her the nurses sleep in between calls during the night shift.

'what time did i call?'

'it was just after 1 AM.'

she pauses, then says, 'oh my god.'

'he promised me that he would make it to our 50th anniversary.'

i shrugged. 'when is that?'

'may 26th. he made it.'




sometimes i wish i could pat God on the back.