There are certain phrases that evoke strong feelings in me when I hear them.
“I’m gonna die” happens to be on that short list. Patients scare the hell out of me when they say they’re going to die and give me that look.
Car accident victims. Patients having heart attacks. One guy who was vomiting and ended up having a massive GI bleed.
All of them gave me the look of death and said “I’m gonna die.”
They were all right. In my experience, more often than not, people who say those words end up being right. One minute they’re looking at you and talking, the next minute, they’re going toward the light.
It’s eerie. Almost seems like people get some sixth sense about when their time is up. Even more scary is that sometimes my face is the last one they see before “crossing over.”
When someone well-known to the staff says those words, it’s almost surreal. You’re so used to dealing with a person, it’s difficult to think of that person not being there anymore.
The Mayor got that feeling not too long ago. His cancer of many years apparently came back with a vengeance. He came in with a new complaint of difficulty breathing a few months back and a chest x-ray showed diffuse lung cancer. Treatments didn’t help. During one of his recent admits, he went around to all the hospital staff telling them “thanks” for taking care of him and saying his “goodbyes.” He felt as if he would die soon. He, too, was right.
This week, the Mayor died.
Going to be strange not fighting with him about why he doesn’t need to be admitted the day after being discharged.
It will be hard to forget his little brown suitcase.
Strange, there has been a noticeable increase in the amount of soda present in the physician’s lounge. I wonder if he …
Nah.
Rest in peace, Mayor.
Sorry, Whitecoat. Even the ones who drive us bonkers somehow find a place in our hearts. RIP, Mayor.
Three years ago, I had what we thought was a bad cold in the weeks following a shoulder surgery. The weekend was difficult but Fred said I looked better Monday morning — still, he thought it odd that I woke him to announce (in a very cheerful voice), “I think I am going to die today!”
I don’t remember that, or the preceeding two days. Sometimes amnesia is a blessing.
After the exertion of breakfast, I took a nap. I didn’t wake up… Instead, it was 911, CPR, intubation, ambulance ride, ventilator… and thanks to all of that superb help, eventual recovery.
But now, I can’t even use an expression like “I’m gonna die laughing” without Fred’s eyes bulging out…
Godspeed, Mayor!
In fact, there is research on the subject that found that a patient’s saying s/he is going to die is the best predictor of imminent death. I don’t have the reference but you can look it up. I believe it was done by some geriatrician.
You have to wonder how much the CT scans he had on his many, many visits contributed to the return of his cancer. Ironically, trying to keep him alive may have hastened his death. That’s one of the irritating thing about frequent flyers – the hospital is NOT a healthy place to be and many procedures carry definite risks.
You can feel it. I knew… I was 36 when I found the lump myself. My doctor at the time, said he didn’t feel any lump, and that I was “too young.” I was so tired all the time, but there was this feeling I can’t describe to you, a knowing. I knew if the doctors didn’t find out what was wrong, that I was going to die sooner. The surgeon I was sent to said to me when the biopsy results came in, “You knew, didn’t you?” I think the only time they don’t know, is when it’s something that takes them very fast.
Where I work, the surgeons & asthesiologists will cancel a case if a pt is heard to utter this phrase or something similar. Bad outcomes follow & its better to stop & find out why rather than have an introperative death.
To Linda,
It makes me incredibly happy to learn of the seriousness with which your clinical personnel take and respond to patient utterings along these lines. I know anecdotal/intuitive wisdom often trumps protocol, experience it on a routine basis, and how the more rigid bipeds among us freak/deny when faced with its existence.
All is all, y’know? And, so?
Thanks for the smile.
Wendy
[...] don’t think, though, I’ve ever boiled it down to three little words: There are certain phrases that evoke strong feelings in me when I hear [...]
I still believe a bit in a supernatural cause of this. More of a self-fulfilling prophesy to the effect of uttering such words can actually invoke an onset of a “death” occurrence.
It has been long said that if you truly believe in something, it comes true. Belief can be just thinking about something a lot, or by definition of belief. Perhaps there is something that causes one to think about something a lot on a subconscious level which maybe either creating the scenario, or is somehow predictive.