A boy with a blunt and the biggest smile. That’s what I see when I open my email. You remember when I mentioned last week that I said goodbye for perhaps the final time to a dear patient? A young man with a dream to make it to prom, or rather a commitment to live long enough to attend. Well he made it, and the joy, well there’s not really words to explain.
When I first saw this dear patient admitted nearly a month prior, it was clear things had changed. I have seen too many patients die to be ignorant to the clear change of a patient nearing the end of life. He decompensated rapidly, before stabilizing. At that time, we thought he may only have days to live. But then, his mother shared her son’s firm statement from the night prior: “I’m not f+*^ing leaving his earth.” After that day, it became clear he had plans of his own.
After this conversation with his mother, in which she shared he was adamant about going to prom and graduation, something changed. There’s something about the mind that is so incredibly powerful. I went from thinking he may only have days left to live, to days later believing he’d make it to prom three weeks away. And to that he did.
This is why we do what we do. This young man will not live, it’s unfair, cruel and will never make sense. But making it to prom was his miracle, and through this miracle was pure joy. In the toughest circumstance, joy was found. The smile on his face, and the surrounding family and friends lifting him up glowing with pride, that’s what it’s all about.
Lifting each other up, finding joy in tragedy. Holding one another’s hand and making the ordinary extraordinary. That’s what I’m here to share today. And this is why I keep coming back.