Faith and illness in the ICU
Dec. 16th, 2012 09:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
midnightsjaneSometimes things can't be explained away by the purely scientific. After 30 years nursing in ICU, I have learned that you cannot underestimate the power of faith. In the midst of tragic illness, sometimes a family's faith that their loved one will recover against all the odds is something very powerful. I'm not a particularly religious person, but I've seen enough to believe that there is more going on than we can explain away with logic. Miracles do happen, not often, but when they do occur, it's enough to make me wonder if there is indeed a higher power.
Today I was looking after a young man who was comatose and on death's doorstep the last time I nursed him over a month ago. He'd already been in ICU for over a month, and had many complications and set backs stemming from an infected heart valve that was seeding septic emboli to his brain. The only real option for him was heart surgery, but because he was neurologically compromised the cardiac surgeons were reluctant to operate until he was neurologically improved. The neurologists felt he would never improve unless his valve was fixed. The discussion went round and round, until finally he had his heart surgery a month ago (the last time I nursed him was just before his surgery). Postop he had another series of unfortunate events, including a GI bleed and two cardiac arrests. On more than one occasion his family was told to prepare themselves for the end. His father steadfastly refused to believe anything but that his son was going to recover. We see that kind of faith sometimes as false hope, but sometimes I wonder if there is more to it. Perhaps that faith is somehow coming from a deeper source. In any event I have learned not to dismiss it out of hand, that sometimes things happen that we can't predict or explain without accepting the possibility of a "miracle".
In this young man's case, something of a miracle has occured; in spite of all the ups and downs, the many strikes against him, he is getting better. He's awake, communicating, and slowly but surely improving. Today he was able to say a few words when we plugged his tracheostomy, and he's very much aware of where he is (even if he's not quite sure why he's there). When I got report today and learned all this, my reaction was "holy crap, he's awake. What are the odds of this?" It's a miracle.
His father came to visit this afternoon, and asked me if his son would be home for Christmas..to which I said no, it's not going to happen quite so soon. His father said, "well, I'm just hoping for a miracle." To which I said, "Sir, you have had a miracle; your son is awake and getting better against huge odds; this is a real Christmas miracle." I just hope that he continues to improve and that he's going to be one of those ICU patients we talk about in later years as one of those people who made the faith their families had in their chances of recovery seem more like foreknowledge.
Sometimes faith is the only logical approach.
Today I was looking after a young man who was comatose and on death's doorstep the last time I nursed him over a month ago. He'd already been in ICU for over a month, and had many complications and set backs stemming from an infected heart valve that was seeding septic emboli to his brain. The only real option for him was heart surgery, but because he was neurologically compromised the cardiac surgeons were reluctant to operate until he was neurologically improved. The neurologists felt he would never improve unless his valve was fixed. The discussion went round and round, until finally he had his heart surgery a month ago (the last time I nursed him was just before his surgery). Postop he had another series of unfortunate events, including a GI bleed and two cardiac arrests. On more than one occasion his family was told to prepare themselves for the end. His father steadfastly refused to believe anything but that his son was going to recover. We see that kind of faith sometimes as false hope, but sometimes I wonder if there is more to it. Perhaps that faith is somehow coming from a deeper source. In any event I have learned not to dismiss it out of hand, that sometimes things happen that we can't predict or explain without accepting the possibility of a "miracle".
In this young man's case, something of a miracle has occured; in spite of all the ups and downs, the many strikes against him, he is getting better. He's awake, communicating, and slowly but surely improving. Today he was able to say a few words when we plugged his tracheostomy, and he's very much aware of where he is (even if he's not quite sure why he's there). When I got report today and learned all this, my reaction was "holy crap, he's awake. What are the odds of this?" It's a miracle.
His father came to visit this afternoon, and asked me if his son would be home for Christmas..to which I said no, it's not going to happen quite so soon. His father said, "well, I'm just hoping for a miracle." To which I said, "Sir, you have had a miracle; your son is awake and getting better against huge odds; this is a real Christmas miracle." I just hope that he continues to improve and that he's going to be one of those ICU patients we talk about in later years as one of those people who made the faith their families had in their chances of recovery seem more like foreknowledge.
Sometimes faith is the only logical approach.
