Withdrawal

I am going to tell a story about one of my patients, Stan.(This is not the real name)


Stan was a middle aged man who unfortunately suffered from a condition named myotonic dystrophy. It was very unfortunate because myotonic dystrophy is a genetic disorder, the end result is the person's muscles become weak as the disease progresses, till he/she becomes too weak to breathe. In addition, the other organs are also affected by this genetic disorder, eventually they will fail too as the disease progresses.


Stan was on life support for more than 2 weeks now. The prognosis was dismal and after much discussion with various specialists and Stan's father, we decided to withdraw his life support and treatment on last Saturday.


In fact it was Stan's father who made the request . This does not happen all the time in ICU. Most commonly families do not understand that modern medical technology is not the answer to everything, and that the mortal body is not invincible.


Stan's father is a 70-80 year-old-man who has a head full of gray hair. He had been the carer of Stan for the last 50 years. Stan was wheel chair bound, so his old father nursed and cared for him faithfully day in day out, carried him in and out of the wheelchair.


So the decision of withdrawal of life support was made, but would not happen immediately because Stan's sister was still on her way from interstate to say bye to him for one last time.


Stan's father was there since that morning. He talked very loudly, with his normal cheerful tone. He held Stan's hand and told him about the fruit trees in the backyard. He smiled at everyone and said thanks to all of us. Everything seemed very ordinary.


It saddened me very much. Was he pretending to be strong on the outside? Or was he relieved? It must have been a very difficult decision to make. He had been faithfully caring for his son for the last 50 years, I am sure somehow or rather it was no longer a time consuming chore, it must have become a main part of his daily life where he found his purpose. I don't know, just a speculation. I might be wrong.


That afternoon was a quiet one and I finished my work early. For the whole day I felt very burdened for Stan and before I went home I went into his room. He was going to die in a few hours and I must tell him about God at any given chance!


He was lightly sedated so I was not sure if he would hear what I had to say. I gently held his hand, and told him that God loved him, and God wanted to be with him. I also told him that Jesus died for him on the cross so that his sins (just like mine) would be forgiven if he believed in Him.


His eyes were closed. I wasn't sure if he heard me. But the voice in me asked me to carry on. I was sure God was there and then.


'Stan, if you want to accept Jesus to be your Saviour, and be with Him, squeeze my hand,' I said.


I felt a gentle squeeze.


Was that him? Really?


I wasn't sure, so I asked again, 'Stan, squeeze my hand again if you believe in Jesus and want to be with Him. '


Another gentle squeeze.


My eyes got teary. I wasn't too sure if he really meant it, but I had done what I could.


I continued to hold his hand, and prayed with him. After all was said and done, I put down his hand, turned around and made my way out. The nurse just happened to come in, and said, ' Hey he waved goodbye to you!'


I turned my head again, yea Stan was waving good bye to me, weakly with his swollen hand.


I waved back and said cheerfully, ' Goodbye, Stan!'


I walked out of the hospital. For a very long time I let myself immerse in a mixture of sorrow and joy, knowing that treatment would be withdrawn, and Stan would die at 9pm. I thought of his loving father , after the past 50 years, this was the first night he would live without Stan.


That goodbye that I said to Stan was a real GOODBYE, for good.


I touched my heart. Oh well, to a certain extent I was glad that after 2 years of working in ICU, my heart had not turned hard and cold. Maybe God put me here for this.


I had many questions that I wanted to ask God about Stan. Did I do it correctly? Did he really accept Jesus as his Saviour? Was he going to heaven or hell?


You know what God answered me? He said, ' This is not your burden. It's Mine.'


Goodbye, Stan.