A Memory

“ John can you sort out the visitors for your patient ? we have more requesting to come in”

So asked one of the support workers on Intensive Care when I was at my busiest time.

My patient was dying and we as a team were withdrawing treatment from him which meant that extra ventilatory support and meds keeping his blood pressure elevated would be discontinued after a long discussion with family. 

The patient’s family was with him but as the patient was a popular man, extended family and friends kept turning up at the door. At these times the next of kin would organise which people would be able to visit and who wouldn’t and it was my job to sensitively put those wishes into practice.

I entered our small sitting area outside the ICU and fielded requests to come in.

I had almost finished when a man in his sixties approached and said he was an old friend of my patient.

He had been told earlier of the present dire situation the patient was in and was clutching a small sunflower in both hands. He had been crying.

I know visiting is only for family” he said quietly “ But could you give him this ?”  

He gave me the sunflower

I said I would even though it was against policy to accept flowers and as the man nodded a tearful thank you he almost stumbled through the automatic door back into the hospital corridor.

Something made me follow him and as he caught his breath. I asked him if he was alright 

He pointed back to intensive care

“ He was my sunshine” the visitor said crying and he reached out to hold my hand for a moment

“He was always my sunshine” 

His words and his grief has always stuck with me even until now, some fifteen years later

And I was glad to have been able to place the sunflower next to that patient 

As I had been requested to