It was a late night admission from the ER. Michael was a 40-something man being admitted for left-sided weakness. By the time he finally decided this was serious and not 'going away' he could not lift his left hand off the bed and his grip strength was down to 1/5 (5/5 being normal).
As we set him up in the medical ICU, starting him on a heparin drip after a head CT, we noted that his blood pressures were through the roof. The radiologist called me back with the results of the CT: he had had an infarct in a region of the brain called the corona radiata. Brain cells were dead. They were never coming back.
Through the course of the night, I sneaked into the room to see how he was doing. The first time around, I found him lying on his side with eyes open. I don't think I shall ever forget the look in those eyes -- fear, frustration, helplessness. He was a mason. When I said something to comfort me, he only replied in a soft voice:
"I should have come in earlier, shouldn't I? I should've come to a doctor before. I should've...."
What do you tell someone who has had a stroke? You cannot promise them that their functions will return. You cannot promise them that their life will be the same again. You cannot promise them anything.
We do what we can, with what knowledge we have. The chips will fall where they may. This gentleman was 1 year younger than me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment