He
was 18. He was a strong, muscular young
man, who had his whole life in front of him.
He developed a fever, and a few days later his eyes turned yellow and
they brought him to the hospital.
I
saw him the day after he was admitted, his skin was very warm with a fever, his
eyes were bright yellow and he was so sick that he was not able to talk, eat or
drink. I looked at his labs and found
that his liver and kidney were not working as they should. I knew his prognosis was bad, I was worried
he wasn't going to make it through this illness. After finishing examining him, I looked up at
his mom, who was very lovingly caring for him, trying to keep his fever down
with cool sponges, putting a little water up to his mouth to wet his lips. His mom was standing next to him, holding his
hand and anxiously waiting for me to tell her good news, unfortunately, I
didn't have much to share.
Hepatorenal
syndrome has a very high mortality rate.
I was hoping that his youth would spare him, that his kidneys would
start working soon with the IV fluid and the antibiotics we were giving him,
but I had a lot of doubts. I shared,
with as much hope as I thought was appropriate, that he was very very sick and
may pass away. She seemed to understand
and so we prayed and I hoped that the medicines would work.
Each
day, he seemed to get worse and the chances of recovery were fading. His mom was joined by his brother and father
at his bedside, all lovingly caring for this young man. I
adjusted his meds each day, trying to give him the best chance at recovery and
each day praying for him to get better. Finally, he one morning, he woke up.
I
was amazed as I was able to talk to him and he was answering my questions. The hope that had faded, was returning, he
just might make it. I left that day,
sharing the hope I had with his family, convinced he was going to be okay.
The
next day, his condition deteriorated again, he was more short of breath, he
wasn't talking and the hope that had resurfaced the day before, was now
gone. He was going to die. I did my best to try and help the family
understand and tried some medicine adjustments to see if it would help, but a
few hours later he passed and loud crying was heard as the family grieved.
As
I thought back to the day before, I was thankful for the gift the family
received of having him back for a short period of time. A time to talk, to say things you might not
be able to say again, to recall memories and to say goodbye. Not everyone gets that window of time, many
are taken from this Earth without warning, without chances to say goodbye. The windows of time are not for me to give or
determine their length, I am just thankful this family got one and hope they
remember it in the days ahead.
