A Light Story ~ Transitions

A Little Background 

It had been a day since I'd left my assignment at a small, acute care facility in Lake Worth, Florida. I'd left a patient I'd been working with for a few weeks, who was now awaiting his son's arrival from another state before he transitioned from this plane to the next. This patient was one of my favorites (as it sometimes goes in nursing and in Life!). In nursing, you're given a set assignment of patients when you show up for your shift on any given day. If you're working 3 12-hour shifts in a row, you essentially (and hopefully) keep the same assignment for what is termed 'continuity of care'. It's always good to get to know your patient and establish a trusting, working rapport with each other.

Anyway, on this particular day, I was assigned to a wonderful patient whom I'd worked with previously. He was a joy to work with and even though he was non-verbal due to his labored breathing, his eyes and a brief nod or shake of his head always told me more than I needed to know to keep him comfortable and as stable as possible despite his precarious condition. His status had declined over the weeks and he was currently being treated with a 'palliative care' status, as his Life on this plane was coming to an end. No matter what, this patient always had a big, toothless grin for me when I entered his room. His lovely grin would light up his entire face and his Soul shone brightly through his azure eyes.

I cared for him as I would any other patient ~ with love, kindness, and compassion. This is something we learn over the years if we are truly nurses, as nurses are meant to be: We learn to put principles before personalities; which is to say, no matter what our personal judgments may be, we learn to love and care for each patient as though they were one of our loved ones, one of our own. There is no room in nursing for preferential treatment. Our patients are our patients: They are our responsibility, and are given over to our care and trust for the time we are with them. It is our responsibility to nurture them during our shift, but above all to RESPECT them while we are entrusted to caring for them. It really isn't our place to judge our patients, no matter what.

So, I left my patients that day with a bit of melancholy, as I felt in my heart that I wouldn't see my 'favorite' patient again after my 4 days off. I knew he was not long for this world, and I didn't want to begrudge him that, as he'd been struggling to breathe for way too long.

The next night I had a dream, of sorts, in which a bright and glowing entity hovered in front of me and I heard the words: "Thank you!" announced. That was it. That was all. I instantly opened my eyes, and a familiar knowing entered my consciousness. In that instant, I knew my patient had finally been released and was free from this world. When I returned to work the following week, I found out that he'd indeed passed and it was the very night that I'd dreamed he'd come to me whispering his thanks. It's interesting how those things happen.

If we're open to miracles, we see them happening all the time.
Until next time, my friends ~ Keep it REAL.

Blessings, Peace, and Love to All ~
Reiki RN

An Open Post Regarding Death ...

"It's okay to let go now. It's okay to go to the Light. Just follow the Light ... Go in peace. Go in Love."

Did you know that a person's hearing mechanism is the last thing to go, prior to death? When you are talking softly to a dying person, they can allegedly hear your every word. I've done that with a few of my patients, whom I knew were on the threshold of transition ...

As a practitioner in the field of Western medicine, it is not often that I have witnessed a person who is simply allowed to transition into the next state of Being. The choice is up to the patient; or in some cases, to his family members if he hasn't had the chance to outline what he wants to happen when his time approaches. A person can choose to be considered a 'DNR', which means he will be allowed to die peacefully, without any interventions.

But in many cases, there are codes called, and practitioners scrambling to perform CPR, start IV's, and defibrillate ... There are emergent medicines injected, bolus IV fluids administered, and other treatments implemented, designed to keep a person's body alive in the face of death. We are in the business of keeping a person alive, no matter that 'alive' may simply mean just that: breathing, or allowing a ventilator to breath for the person. What kind of quality does clinging to 'life' really bring to the person who lay motionless in a hospital bed, unaware of what is happening around her?

Here in the Western world, we are usually unwilling to accept the death of our physical bodies. We will scramble to save a life that has absolutely no quality left to it. We will insist our loved ones - who are simply existing, hovering between this world and the next, but not really living at all be made to endure having their chests compressed rapidly, because we are afraid to simply allow the dying process to happen. We will hold on to our loved ones because we are so fearful about letting them go, so fearful of releasing them from the bondage of this reality. It's really not about THEM at all, it's about our need to have them in our Life, even if that means they are simply existing and only because a machine is breathing for them.

I was visited by a patient in a dream not long ago, whom I had cared for in hospital while he was

dying. I'd always spoken to him quietly, and compassionately, as he lay dying. He always acknowledged me when I was talking to him, by opening his eyes and looking at me. At times, he would manage a wan, tired smile, but he was on a ventilator, and could not communicate. He consistently appeared to be struggling for oxygen, even though the continuous pulse oximeter read that his blood was 98% saturated with oxygen. One night, on one of my days off, after I'd cared lovingly for him for two days in a row,  I dreamed he came to me. In my dream, my patient was surrounded by bright, shining light and he said only two words to me: "Thank you." That was all.

I awakened with a start, knowing that he'd been released from this reality at last, and that he'd finally transitioned.  I wasn't scared ... I was happy for him. He was free. I'm a firm believer in the advances of technology and science, and I also believe firmly in Spirit. I believe the two are intertwined, and I also believe that when our bodies die, our essence (or Soul, or Spirit) continues to live on. Our Souls are energy ... and as physics states unequivocally, energy does not die. It can change, but it does not die. It continues on and on ... indefinitely.

Why does it seem that the entire Western world fears this perfectly natural transition from one reality to the next? Do you fear the transition? Do you fear death? Why, or why not? Fear is simply a lack of faith. What is there to look forward to if one has no faith in life after death?

These are some questions to consider ...

Until next time ~
Peace & Blessings Abound