This is for you all.
lampnyter
It's not a cultural thing any more to look at death, let alone participate in the process. But you know what? Long before we had drug boxes death was looked at as something natural; as if each of us was going to die! Can you imagine that?
And people were all around you and you were NOT carted away from the scene in an ambulance by people who completely detach themselves emotionally and turned over to a hospital where the order of the day is CYA. Death was something personal and worked through and was also a community thing.
MANY people in the community who were not part of the life of the deceased would come over and be part of a mourning process. Assisting the family while they EXPRESSED their grief; made room for it, took care of the cooking and cleaning and actually ALLOWED the people affected to break down and PART OF THAT PROCESS WAS BREAKING DOWN THEMSELVES!
Just as if they understood that grief expressed passes more quickly than grief suppressed.
This will be unpopular but if it gives you something to think about, I don't care. There were times, as a medic, I mourned the loss of a patient. I may have been touched by the intensity of the circumstances, the total injustice of it all or by the way I could actually FEEL the persons struggling to stay alive and I couldn't help. These (just a few, mind you) were true, personal losses, not at all in the realm of a relative but still, meaningful.
I mourned them for days, sometimes months, but I still did the work and the mourning didn't interfere because I learned to allow myself to feel a "wave" of sadness or whatever ONLY when there was free space available. Maybe by my NOT confining it, only directing, it didn't build the power to blindside me while I wasn't looking. Sometimes that's what happens.
I only have one point to make for you or anyone who reads this. Since we are so intimate with death, we may as well really look at it and the role we play in it. You may be surprised to find it could help you be a better medic.
You'll be hearing your Grandfather's voice for the rest of your life. It's real. He lives in you much as he always has.