This week I was on consulting liason for Psych. Unfortunately, a lot of schizophrenic patients end up in ICU because they abuse drugs and forget to take their medications (and a lot of them this week happen to be Clozapine).

Whilst waiting for the psych registrar to write up her notes, I looked around the ICU and saw an old lady a couple of beds away. She was intubated and I could see a dialysis machine and several IV syringe pumps hooked up to her. Standing next to the bed, holding her hand was an elderly gentlemen, presumably her husband. Every now and then, he would speak a couple of words into her ear and kiss her on the forehead. And then, the nurse came over to speak to him and he kissed her again, let go of her hand and walked out of the cubicle, the nurse drawing the curtains behind him.

I'm not sure what the nurse was doing but seeing him stand outside the cubicle, all alone, looking around, I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. When you get to that age and you have to watch your significant other lying in ICU with all those tubes and lines in her, it really makes you realise how helpless we are at the end of life.

I had to fight back my tears...