What Would It Take to Make You Appreciate the Precious Moments of Your Life?

Illustration by McClain Moore for AJN.

Imagination vs. reality.

Who hasn’t thought about it from time to time, the sudden grim diagnosis, the force of the realization that all that time you thought you had to live, love, learn, explore, and change may really be finite after all? Who hasn’t wondered what you would do with the remaining time if that happened—and by corollary, what you should be doing differently now?

But that’s all in the mind and imagination. The real clarifying shock of such an experience remains out of reach for most of us—until it happens.

Collecting experiences ‘like Mario connecting coins.’

This month’s Reflections essay, “The Last One,” is by Fran Wiedenhoeft, a former nurse anesthetist in the military. In it, she describes her own reaction after she found herself, at a relatively young age, facing just such a diagnosis.

In the two weeks before the surgery . . . I threw myself with frantic determination into collecting lasts: last long run . . . , last trip to the zoo, last potato peeled, last kiss, last caress. . . . Rather than enjoying each precious moment and every last experience, I was rushing […]

On Its Own Terms: An ICU Nurse Considers Human Adaptability

By Marcy Phipps, RN, a regular writer for this blog. Her essay, “The Love Song of Frank,” was published in the May (2012) issue of AJN. Some of the patient’s identifying details in this post have been changed to protect privacy.

by ashraful kadir/ flickr by ashraful kadir/ flickr

I caught an airing of The Shawshank Redemption the other day. It’s one of my favorite movies—full of irony and rich with messages of hope and perseverance.

There’s one line from the movie, in particular, that I love:

“Get busy living, or get busy dying.”

It’s one of my favorite movie quotes, and one that plagued me at work recently as I took care of a woman who’d suffered such a high-level fracture to her cervical spine that her injury was compared to an internal decapitation.

Her doctors had talked with her and her family at length about her injuries and prognosis, and although she’d initially indicated that she wanted to withdraw aggressive care, as time passed her directives became inconsistent—she’d tell her husband one thing, her medical team something else. On the day I was her nurse, she looked at me and very clearly mouthed the words “I don’t want to die,” then shut her eyes tight, ending our brief conversation as effectively as if she’d stood and left the room.

I think that most of the time, at least in the ICU where I work, people aren’t “getting […]

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