"... would it be like a mistake? Or would that be because the human body is indeed just that mysterious and medicine can't get a full grasp of it?"
".... hmm... I think the latter..."
Feeling a little better day by day is of course so much easier for me than it is for that family. But at least to some degree I've got to get myself together. Despite all the sympathy and uncertainty about just how preventable this was, I still have to remember that, as per the "House of God", that "the patient's the one with the disease". It isn't to be inhumane, but so that we can stay functional in spite of events like these. Unfortunately, eventually every bad outcome usually evolve into a learning objective. We have to be functional in order to learn to do better next time.
It's been good talking a little about it. This is definitely the toughest part of this profession. Medicine is so non-black non-white, that almost in all circumstances you cannot be absolutely sure that you did no wrong. There might even be no answer as to what was the best course of action. Some might even argue that you can't safely claim that you "did your best" all the time. You do your work, hope that you did it professionally, with integrity, and hope that it deserves the weight of your title. That's about all we can shoot for. That's about all we can ask for anybody in their work.
Slowly, I feel my mood becoming lighter. I almost don't want to recover too quickly, because I'll feel guilty if so. But at the same time Christmas is a time to share joy with family and friends, and I shouldn't be a grumpy no more. Do not forget to celebrate the living while mourning for the ones who left.
Slowly, I shall focus on my life again.
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