I recently took care of a terminally ill patient and discharged him home the very same day. What was involved in his care was basically to get him to a state where he was strong enough to be transferred out, which required several transfusions of blood products. His prognosis was so that the physicians didn't bother to do a CBC after the transfusion, because "it wouldn't affect his outcome."
I had him only for one day before the he left. He wanted to go home is my understanding and he knew he wasn't going to get better. He had accepted it, he had a long fight already and I respected him for it. I would want to be closer to my loved ones during my last days - not stuck in a hospital, an unfriendly environment with people poking and prodding you just to keep you alive.
The emotional me didn't cry during the day, partially because I was busy with my patients' care. But, as I was doing my discharge teaching and I looked into his eyes to say my last goodbyes before he left, I had to fight back the tears... unsuccessfully.
It didn't help or console me even when my charge nurse said "You were the perfect one to care for him today." All I was thinking was that he was eventually going to pass away. Even today, I think of him and tears roll down my face as I write.
I also think of myself,... and where I would be. Prognosis - not good.
