My own 'empty chair' moment came when I went back into the Covid ward the day after I had sat with a dying man in February 2021. His urine was like coffee, his breath a continuous groan - he was barely hanging on to life. As a volunteer, I was to keep him company, talk to him and comfort him as he suffered and coughed and tried so hard to breathe. In that time we shared something important and intimate. Around him there had been complete pandemonium - in our little room, only groaning and fear.
I had had to leave, but the next day I wanted to know how he was doing. It was my first thought when I opened my eyes that morning. How is Albert doing? Is he improved? Is there good news? Back in the deployment hub the lead nurse told me, "he passed away a couple of hours after you left." For a fleeting moment a kind of panic entered my soul, but there was nothing I or anyone could do now or could have done then. We could only look at one another and think our own thoughts.
That was a terrible time for NHS staff and volunteers (and of course patients). I wanted to go back to that room, just for a moment, to look at his empty bed and remember... but of course his bed wasn't empty, and it wasn't his bed. Another man lay dying of Delta Covid in his place. Another would come after him. And another.
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The empty chair, a blog by Dr Chris Tiplady
in Blogs
Posted
Beautiful post. Very moving.
My own 'empty chair' moment came when I went back into the Covid ward the day after I had sat with a dying man in February 2021. His urine was like coffee, his breath a continuous groan - he was barely hanging on to life. As a volunteer, I was to keep him company, talk to him and comfort him as he suffered and coughed and tried so hard to breathe. In that time we shared something important and intimate. Around him there had been complete pandemonium - in our little room, only groaning and fear.
I had had to leave, but the next day I wanted to know how he was doing. It was my first thought when I opened my eyes that morning. How is Albert doing? Is he improved? Is there good news? Back in the deployment hub the lead nurse told me, "he passed away a couple of hours after you left." For a fleeting moment a kind of panic entered my soul, but there was nothing I or anyone could do now or could have done then. We could only look at one another and think our own thoughts.
That was a terrible time for NHS staff and volunteers (and of course patients). I wanted to go back to that room, just for a moment, to look at his empty bed and remember... but of course his bed wasn't empty, and it wasn't his bed. Another man lay dying of Delta Covid in his place. Another would come after him. And another.
https://coronavirusdiaries.co.uk/2021/01/19/witnessing-the-struggle/