Questions about death and my wicked side

The other night at work, I had this patient that looked at me with fear in his eyes as he struggled to breath, and asked, "I'm dying aren't I". What does one say in response to a question like that? My quick response is to say, "No, you'll be alright." But don't people know when they are getting close to death? So how does a trite answer take away all the fears? I don't think it does at all, but rather makes them feel like I as a nursing stuent are not listening to them. I've really struggled with this issue. Maybe the thing to do is not to say anything at all, but to simply be there for them and listen.

Tom came home from work the other day and woke me from a sound sleep. I was really not too impressed. Well, when he went to jump in the shower I got this wicked thought in my head. You see, the toliet is just close enough to the shower to... well...let me start at the beginning.

Once I heard the shower water running, I remembered that I had done the dishes the night before. Tom has this glass that he likes to put tea in right after it is made. Because it usually sits upside-down in the freezer so the fluid inbetween the inside of the glass and the outside can freeze. This was waiting in the freezer. I slipped out of bed and crept to the kitchen. There I put tap water in the glass and stirred it with my finger till I thought that it was cool enough. Then into the bathroom I crept.

Remember the toliet is just close enough to the shower, that if I stretched just a bit from the top of the toliet lid, I could pour the freezing water just over the shower curtin, down on Tom's unsuspecting head. I knew the moment the water hit him because I heard a gasp and a mad scramble to get under the warmer water from the shower head. I had no mercy though and kept pouring. Quicker than I could think, Tom poked out his face from behind the shower curtin with this pained look of betrayal on his face. It really was quite funny.

Then to finish off this post. I don't know how many of you know that Tom talks in his sleep. I can actually ask him questions and he'll answer them. Well, the other morning, his alarm went off for him to get up and go to work. I poked him and told him to hit snooze. (I have to remind him that the big button is snooze, and the little button is off!) After the radio went off a few times, I asked him what time it was. He quickly answered, "Uhh, Wal-Mart I think". I just had to laugh.