I held a dying person’s hands last night. It was cold, and she was clammy. She had bowel cancer, she’s perspiring, she’s cold all over and she’s in terrible pain – not to mention all choked up with a tight chest.

And she’s incredibly alone, with no family for us to call to come see her for one last time.

So I sat there, and held her hands. I called her name, I sang to her and I prayed for her.

There’s something incredibly humbling about all that, that despite whatever we do in life, we will all die, some more painful than others. And some infinitely more lonely. The people who walk through our lives, we never really acknowledge them or appreciate them – they are just the passerbys after all, to some.

The other side of the story is how I wished in all my heart that she could be released from her pain. Once upon a time, my grandpa passed away. It was the saddest day of my life, for various reasons. I had full blown eczema, and could not stand in the hot hot sun, which would have excarbated the problem further. so, I was the only grandchild left behind, in a nice air conditioned car left to trail behind the funeral procession, and then not allowed near the graveyard.

And all I could think about was, “I haven’t apologised to you yet, you don’t have a right to leave yet.” My grandpa, despite his gruff appearances, was a gentle, generous man. At the age of 80, he climbed up the tree to pick some mangos/durians (the story differs based on which aunt you talk to) for our neighbours. he fell, hit his head, and started some bad condition in his body. far as I know, he was diagnosed with 2 years to live.

I knew he lived in constant pain, but my aunts made sure that he at least did things that would have left his life somewhat fulfilled.

Last night though, lied a woman who have no family to do such a thing for her, nor visited her in at least 3-4 years. She’s probably lived her own life, but to fulfillment? I don’t know. All I know is, a painless death would have been preferred if she could have helped it.

I said my farewells, and then I left. They don’t talk much about this, how emotionally attached health professionals can be towards their patients. A doctor once commented that anaesthetists, dentists and psychiatrists are the frequent suicide cases of the health professions, and the only reason why they are right at the top is because of the ease of access to lethal drugs. While death is a frequent occurrence in aged care, I do have to wonder, how many nurses wish they can stop viewing some macabre deaths, such as that in children.

This week has been an interesting lesson in self worthiness, from a bystander’s point of view. This is not to say I am not guilty of it at times, but I feel I am humble enough to understand I am flawed and will accept changes or try to when I see a need to. It is just quite amusing what people had do to prove that they are right, they are good or they are… important in another person’s life.

see, the thing is, everyone has something to learn everyday - even at the age of 105 or what gives. you learn new culture, the 10 bajillion ways of doing the same thing and more. Learning is a endless thing, there’s too much in this world that’s happening everyday for one to learn. People forget that at times though, and think they know better than others, and their ideas are better or the other person is too stupid to know even the simplest routine in life.

it’s amusing, but irritating at times.

To start with, it is amusing how someone’s resigned because she thinks an entire workplace that has been running on well-oiled wheels is unprofessional towards her. we’re talking about a place that is accredited, with staffs that has been on for at least 12 months, and most who have been there for years. She talks condescendingly towards the management - people who will review her and pay her accordingly. and now she’s going to walk out and find a new employer within the same industry.

how scary.

then of course, there’s the annoying fly that i talked about on thursday evening.

What you eventually learn though, from a sociology point of view, is that eventually we are all just… numbers. God is very fair. Working in a dementia ward, your eyes are opened in a very very realistic point of view. There are doctors, nurses, head of banks, plumbers and mechanics…. and they all succumb into this illness, part of the 70% of those above 80 years old who succumb to dementia. some end up dribbling and unable to talk, others end up unable to even remember their first names.

There’s no better than you, or a good advice, or being more important or experienced than someone else because everyone has had different experiences in life. there’s only statistics and the ever changing world with a singular certainty - and that is death.

God is very fair.

Here I am Lord,
Is it I, Lord?
I have heard you calling in the night.....
I will go, Lord. If You lead me.
I will hold Your people in my heart!

The year was 1939, the British finally gave permission to us soldiers so that we could return home. I returned and was so depressed by the atrocities that is now known as the Rape of Nanking that I didn't want to do much. The truth is, I didn't know what I can do. If I was a Chinese in Nanking, I will never forgive the Japanese for what they did.

My parents were worried for my health, and bought me a holiday in Brighton for a week, complete with an accomodation at a Bed and Breakfast. However, I got lost at the train station to Brighton. There were too many people there and nothing that gave me the information that I needed.

And then, I saw this beautiful woman, and I asked her for directions. She smiled at me and told me she was going there too! What a lovely coincidence. So I asked her for a date... and then she became my wife. She was 17, and I was 24.

In the years that followed, right in the middle of World War 2, I was discharged from being a bomb defuser. I had arthritis that developed from playing football. I took up constructions works and travelled the world with my family - wherever I go, my wife goes.

When I turned 80, I started realising my friends were slowly dying while my beautiful grandchildren are no longer little ones. After playing bridge with my 2 male friends one day, I mentioned to my wife what I was thinking:

We are both getting older now, and I am 7 years older. I am more likely to die first, what with my heart and breathing problems. If and when I do pass on, I want her to know I love her very much, and had always loved her. I didn't want her to grief too much, and most importantly... I didn't want her to be lonely.

If she ever finds someone she loves, I would very much like her to be re-married and have a companion till the end of her days.

She also said the same to me you know...

Two years ago, she felt some pain in her stomach. We took her to a doctor, who didn't so much as look at her. Paid him 60 dollars, and all he said was, oh she's got some rheumatoids or something. She didn't recover, and was still in severe pain. I asked my son's doctor to please come have a look at her. He was retired, you know, but he came around anyways.

And there it was, a tumour the size of an egg. How could anyone, ANYONE, miss that? That was so irresponsible!

They put her through a battery of medications, tests and then, the chemos. She became very sick, but the tumour was gone. she came back to me, my beautiful wife. and a week later, they took her out for a walk in the garden behind, just to have some sun on her. then, I could hear her groan, and she collapsed in the middle of the garden.

We called for the ambulance, but everything was really all too late. There was another tumour in her, in a similar area. They said there was too much chemo in her now, and it would kill her if they put her through another round of the same things so soon. And besides, if the chemo didn't succeed in giving her even a few more months, she is... not able to get better.

And so, we live. She was constantly in pain, and it hurts me to see her that way. But she was still my beautiful wife, so loving and patient as always.

One day, she was lying in her bed, in alot of pain. "George," she asked, "do you love me?"

"why, my dear, " I laughed, "We've been married for 70 years! of course I love you!" I walked over and gave her a hug.

"Can you kiss me?"

I gave her a kiss and smiled at her.

Later that night, she fell into a coma. She was in too much pain, and needed too much morphine to keep her alive. You know euthanasia? I wish they could have euthanasia here. If they had ask me for her, I would have said yes straight away, for she was in so much pain. So much unnecessary pain.

My beautiful wife died a week later on Christmas day.

I still sleep on her bed, especially when I myself am in pain. I miss my beautiful wife terribly, and despite what we have said, I don't want to replace my wife. I can't replace my wife. There were nights, you know, when I heard knocks or foot steps, and I forget that she has passed on. I had still call out and ask her, "Grace, did you hear that?" as if nothing has happened.

but no one answers.

the nurses, they are so wonderful. They took my Grace away, and prepared her funeral. When I returned from her funeral, I received many hugs and kisses. There's nothing sexual or anything about those hugs or kisses you know, but they helped me get over my grief and replace the only thing they could replace - the loving arms of my Grace."

- From a loving, loving husband.

Sad as the story is, the couple lived to 87 and 94 - celebrating their 70th anniversary. Considering the massive amounts of divorce these days, that is a feat.

The nations nurses and midwives are categorically opposed to any attempts to move undergraduate education away from the university sector.The ANF called on the federal government to reverse the decision which will lead to an erosion of the professional status and working conditions of nurses and midwives.

Nursing is a complex and demanding profession that requires the same rigorous scholarly preparation, based on research and evidence, as other recognised health professions. Offering nursing in the TAFE system will only segment and isolate nurses from other health professionals, remove nursing from the knowledge building and research base that universities offer, ultimately diminishing standards in nursing and in health care.