In her terminal episode, she has taught me many things.
Once again I was reminded that I cannot fix everything, no matter how hard I tried.
I found myself tearful as I ordered her intubated... a chill running through me and an unspoken cry of "Oh my God this can't be happening" in my gut.
I found that I had to let go... I had to let another physician - an intensivist - take over her primary care (difficult because I am a trained intensivist), because I am definitely "too close".
And I found myself today sitting with her son in her isolation room in the ICU... two grown men talking about the end of a lovely woman's life, while we were wearing green isolation gowns, yellow masks, latex free gloves, and "poofy" blue bonnets.
In one instant tears became laughter as I visualized us both in those ridiculous outfits and I shared it with her son.
He laughed... and said that in the end... his Mom would have been hysterical laughing at us both.