I have heard this phrase more throughout my life than “i love you”. The uncomfortable, painful, numbing memories silenced with five words that make no sense. Five words that dig a hole and bury the hurting ones. Five words that justify everything unexplained while discrediting the experience itself. Five fucking words.

I took care of a patient the other night that declined so fast in front of me, I barely had emotional space to reach a space of complete kindness. She was moved to comfort care within hours, placed so quickly on a morphine drip and scheduled ativan. I sat in there as much as I could. Gently rubbing her paper thin back. Humming and singing songs that made no sense. And as her breaths became more ragged and slowed, a tear slipped between my lids, undetectable almost to me and I whispered "it’s okay honey. You’re so wonderful and so loved.” She died holding my hand, my gentle singing masking the heavy, labored breaths of a woman of power. A woman who lived for sass, for charm, for change, and brightness of the world. And in that space where there was only now one, I realized how incredible my job is. Yes, I can straight cath someone like a badass, I’m boss at compressions, and can get an IV in any vein I peep my eyes on, but this, this holds so much more capacity than anything I could ever put into words. You cannot teach people how to be compassionate. It is not a step-by-step process or one that requires much medical skill and yet it requires all the skill of a human heart. So while, yes, I could’ve probably saved this woman’s life with tubes and meds, breathing machines and beeps becoming the only noise of a living body, holding an aching, dying woman’s hand while she breathes on this earth for the last time is something I have no words for. I’m honored. Truly so very honored to have the opportunity to care.

When you see death so often on a day-to-day, your heart can kind of crust over, because to feel every single hand that passes through your’s, just to never pass through it again can be the most crushing. Never look at me and tell me that this pain happens for a reason. Saying I’m sorry and it sucks, holds much more courage than trying to find five empty words that will just cause the hurting ones to hurt more. Breathe in empathy and quit sugar-coating the confusion of life we all travel through. Feel something.