Tough day at the office

Rarely, very rarely, do I take a job home with me. But today one of the calls got to me. We were given a call that I looked at the screen and said to my crewmate "this has got grief written all over it". We were called to a terminally ill patient who had been discharged from hospital so that she could die at home. Her son was there and called the LAS as his mother was very distressed, breathing very rapidly and in a great deal of pain. He had the right medications at home, but just needed someone to administer it. The district nurse who was supposed to do it hadn't shown up, the GP was unavailable as it's Sunday, and NHS Direct had suggested to call an ambulance. In itself that's a fairly logical conclusion, except that the drugs that she needed are ones that we are not licenced to give. So we called for back up. We spoke to EOC (control room) who put us in touch with one of the top doctors who help the LAS with real-time medical support. We were authorised to give the medications, with some time intervals and see how they helped the patient. The idea was not to prolong the patient's life, but to make their last few hours or days as comfortable as possible.
So this is what we did. Over the next two hours we monitored the patient, administered medication, tried to arrange for palliative care, ensured the district nurse was going to attend and generally attempted to make the patient as comfortable as possible. Finally the patient seemed to be a little more comfortable and much less distressed. Certainly she was in no pain. We explained to the son that there was nothing further that we could do, advised him as to what could follow withing the next few hours and left the premises.
We were in the vehicle completing paperwork, ensuring that if any further crews were called that they knew what had been going on, that they did not convey the patient to hospital, and that, if events presented, she was not to be resuscitated. Her son had accepted the situation and was fully aware that his mother was dying.
While we were still finishing the paperwork, he came outside and said that he thinks that his mother had died. We rushed back in only to confirm that his fears were indeed correct. She had, in the 10 minutes that we had been sitting outside, died. She was pain free, less distressed and with her son, when she quietly passed away. He seemed to be comforted by these facts.
Sometimes our job isn't about just saving lives. It's about ensuring that the lives we live, even if they are nearing the end, are lived with dignity and comfort. It's about looking after the relatives best interests as well as the patient's.
And sometimes, just sometimes it's about working out how not to take another job home.