I see death every day. Not many people can say that. Not many people understand what it is like to be confronted with the fact of one's own mortality so often. It's part of what I do, it goes with the territory. That's not to say I don't get affected. I believe if you don't get affected, then you are in the wrong profession, and it is time to move on. But that makes it hard. Hard to sit and watch the widow, the son, the father, after you have given them the worst of all possible news.
Death comes in many forms. There is the expected death, often a blessed relief for all, patient included, perhaps after a painful, drawn-out illness. There is the unexpected death, home just two weeks following a successful heart bypass, then found lifeless in bed one morning. There are the deaths from trauma, car accidents or stabbings.
And then there are those that deal the fateful blow themselves. Those that I get called to are invariably the more violent: the blade, the rope, the train, the 5 storey fall. These cases affect me more than anything. They leave me numb. That anyone could want to end their life is one thing - to end it in such an aggressive manner is another. They drain me, both the the act itself and the intent behind the act. They often leave me empty and low for days after.
I had two today.
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