her life.

So I was at my clinical site today (convalescent home), where my classmates and I have the responsibilty of passing medications to each patient and I saw something that really grabbed my attention. An RN had insisted we watch him insert an IV into a patient who was extrememly dehydrated and had very bad skin turgor. So we watched him and he informed us that she was a hospice patient.

-a hospice patient is one who usually has a terminal disease or illness; meaning that life is coming to an end soon.

Anywho, he talked and talked before actually inserted the IV and right before he did, the patient asked him when we would be removing her soiled linen and clothes. Her hands shook as she attempted to lift her gown to show us but the task was a little too much for her. She lay uncomfortably in her bed with her legs cocked in one direction and chin pointed to the ceiling, never really taking a glimpse at the students watching before her.

Drifting off, I thought of what she was thinking in her head. What kinds of dreams does she dream about? Did she have any regrets? I immediately felt sad. Sad that there was no one there with her. No flowers. No pictures. Just her. Lying there, immobile.

But then I thought about everything else. Maybe she lived a good life. Maybe she had children who were going to visit her later on today. Maybe they would bring flowers. Maybe they would say some words of encouragement to comfort her. Maybe things aren't so bad for her after all.

...Then my mind swayed again.

As the nurse inserted the IV and injected the medication, her frail vein ruptured due to her dehydration.

She was okay though.

But I still wonder what procedures facilities like this one do to comfort patients and ensure that the quality of life is preserved.