Life is beautiful

Oddly enough, the day that I wrote the previous post, one of our long time patients on the unit had passed away, and another one of my patients crashed. I couldn't help but think I had sensed it, felt it coming. I hadn't felt right all day. I wasn't necessarily in a bad mood, just down, and very tired. Not just tired, drained. Hind sight is 20/20, but this seemed more than coincidence.
I knew one of our patients we had cared for for over a month on our floor was in the ICU for liver failure. He had his transplant a couple years back, but the new liver was being rejected by his own body. While on our unit the doctors tried several procedures to save the liver, but nothing took. We all knew the day would come when we would have to call a "rapid response" and get him moved to the ICU. I knew he had been in the ICU for about a week or so, and I could not stop thinking about him the night before work. I thought about how much he and his wife loved one another. They were both in their 50's with two grown children. I would often hear them from the other side of the unit laughing and giving each other grief when they lost a card game. I was moved by their love for one another. His wife was there everyday, we had to beg her to leave and get some rest. She was in it for better or worse.
I came to work Thursday planning to buy him and his wife a card to have the nurses sign to know we were praying for them, and admired their love for each other. I asked our secretary to see which room he was in in the ICU next door so I could go visit him. When his name came up on the screen, a number "3" was next to it. He had passed away on Wednesday afternoon. I was heartbroken for his family, namely his wife who had seen him cured of alcoholism, get a liver transplant, and then saw him through the liver failure. I felt helpless because I knew I couldn't do anything to help her through her grief. Sometimes all we have is prayer.