Dear Patient
Republished, from an old reddit post of mine.
This is how it happens:
Your mother finds you unconscious. Your father calls 911. Your brother starts CPR.
Ten minutes of chest compressions, two shocks, and five doses of NARCAN later your heart starts again and you're on your way to us. We're the best in the world, but we can't do the impossible. We'll try anyway.
We'll do a CT scan, which will show that your brain is swollen. An EEG will show no brain activity.
One of us will call your family. In the meantime, we'll read your records and discover that you've been here before. You've visited our Emergency Department three times in the last two years. The first time, you were unconscious. The second time, you were begging for help. By then, you'd stolen from from everyone you know to feed your habit. Your mom gave you an ultimatum and threatened to kick you out if it didn't stop. You tried to check into rehab twice but they didn't think you were serious. It wasn't your fault, though: you "want" to get clean, but you don't even know what "want" means anymore, because the part of your brain that "wants" things has been totally, utterly, completely captured by this drug - once you tried it, nothing else compared. So you gave in, again, and again, and again. You wandered the streets looking for your next hit. The cops picked you up last weekend and took you to jail. You came home recently, and for a few beautiful days you were free.
You lasted less than 48 hours before you overdosed on all the heroin you could get your hands on.
We'll pinch you. We'll test your reflexes. We'll shine light into your pupils, and hope that they'll contract as they should. We'll pour cold water into your ear, because if you're still there, you'll react. We'll give you a medication to make your heart speed up. We'll turn off the ventilator to make you breathe on your own. But nothing will happen.
We'll close your eyes. We'll tell your parents.
I know you tried as hard as you could.
I'm sorry we couldn't help you.