Mr. X


I was never comfortable with the concept of death.

Yes, I dabbled on thoughts of suicide and dying young during my turbulent adolescent years, like any other ordinary teenager. But hello? No one at the age of 15 is really that serious about it!

As a matter of fact, I am afraid of looking at dead people inside open caskets. For many years, I have managed to maintain a two-feet distance between me and the casket whenever I am dragged to look at corpses inside caskets during wakes. I have also managed to maintain a brave face whenever faced with a cadaver during Anatomy Lab, instead of running away from the room in a speed of 80 miles/hour.

But this was obviously something that I had to face.

At 4:00 this morning, for the first time in my life, I had seen a man die right in front of me...

An unknown elderly man that we had named Mr.X was brought to the ER. There was no watcher with him and he was said to be found, lying in the midle of the road, a supposedly victim of hit and run. As the crowd of student nurses dispersed from around his stretcher, I finally saw him in all his tragic splendor: Both legs were splinted, from the hip to the ankles, a variety of wounds decorated his skin like unwanted medals of valor, and with gurgling sounds coming out of his throat, fresh blood oozed out of his mouth like a red water fountain. Both pupils were dilated, blood pressure was 20 palpable and his heart rate was barely perceptible.

We did massive suctioning, intubation, Ambu-bagging, even CPR yet despite our attempts to keep him alive, eventually, he died in the E.R. This man, who could be someone's grandfather, father or husband, has died alone with no relative to see him for the last time and with no name to identify him in his death certificate. For all we know, some daughter or wife or granddaughter is looking for him right now and they aren't even aware that he is already dead.

I have never witnessed a sorrier event than that.

Mr. X was now nothing but a corpse lying under a white sheet. I kept thinking how bad it must feel to die, without a name, without your family, without an identity.

Mr. X, may you rest in peace.