What's up, guys? So, what's on my mind today, A Blew Duet. This is the third poem of my 2013 Project 365. I originally wrote this poem in 1998. I was working as an ICU nurse in my hometown of Indianola, MS, and while watching this older man that I had known all my life say goodbye to his wife, I picked up my pen and started writing. 

We were going to turn off the ventilator and extubate her whenever he was ready. I turned off most of the alarms to give him as much peace as possible. I then watched him from the desk to signal me when he was ready.  

He told his children to wait outside as he sat there with her. He held her in silence mostly. But he did talk to her, and he cried. I brought him tissues, but men of that era always had a handkerchief with them. No amount of time would be enough for him, and if he wanted to take my whole shift to say goodbye, then so be it. Selfishly I wished he would have. 

In a bigger facility, I would have called respiratory to come and extubate the pt and turn off the vent. During the night shift in a small facility in Indianola, the ICU nurse wears many different hats, and the responsibility would fall to me. I love my job as a nurse, except for this part of the job.

After some time, he signaled to me he was ready. He shook my hand and thanked me. His sons and daughters came into the room. I called the ER doctor over, we disconnected the ventilator from the ET tube and turned it off. Deflated the endotracheal tube balloon, removed the tape, and pulled the tube. The pt was not breathing, but there was a rhythm on the monitor and a feeble pulse. Her pulse was gone after 3 mins marking the end of her life, death.

I tried to leave the room, but the family wanted me to stay.  I stayed for a few more minutes, but then I gave all the time they needed to say goodbye.

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