The Christmas Tree

Aaliyah was a patient in a lot of pain. She suffered from chronic obstructive pulmonary disease with chronic pain all over her body. Her bed was placed in the living room of a very small house, and the door that led outside was broken. For the nurse and I to get into the house, we had to enter through the doggy door. The house was dirty and she had this one tiny cat with a bell on it. It was days before Christmas, and I asked her what her plans were, and she said she had none, that she didn’t believe in Christmas anymore. Curious and concerned, I asked her why. She said her family celebrates it at her son’s house but she can’t move to get there so she doesn’t go. She said she had no reason to be happy or to hope for tomorrow. I told her that I was gonna buy her a Christmas tree and that she deserved a Christmas. She passed away five days before Christmas.

I related to Dr. Puri when she said, “My parents, both Hindus, had taught me that understanding death as inevitable is necessary to appreciate the meaning and beauty of life. But knowing this didn’t make it any easier to lose patients within days of meeting them.” I had been prepared about death all semester and thought I would be ready. When it happened I became emotionally numb and forcefully apathetic. However, with everything I learned, I knew I had to express how I felt. I was angry. So angry that she had to die in an environment like that. I was angry that she felt so much pain. I was angry that I never got her the Christmas tree I promised. Then, I had peace. She had been delivered from her suffering, and I didn’t have to watch her suffer any longer. I realized I couldn’t promise Christmas trees, all I could do was “maximize joy, meaning, and comfort in their waning lives.”

In order to even step foot in any health profession, one has to understand the inevitability of death and the importance of a fulfilled life. Actually this is important for life itself. Nothing is permanent, and we torture ourselves with trying to make impermanent things last forever, whether it is friendships, relationships, life, projects, etc. This experience has helped me grow in being able to understand death in addition to being able to take care of myself and others through difficult times and grief. Yes, I can tell you that I still want to be a surgeon at all costs, but now I am not going in blindly thinking I have the ability to save everyone and preserve life at all costs. My number one job is to help improve the quality of life and alleviate pain in more ways than just science for my patients. I highly recommend this experience to anyone who has aspirations to go into any health-related field.