Time of Death | Teen Ink

Time of Death MAG

January 15, 2009
By Grace Hoo Hoo BRONZE, Palatine, Illinois
Grace Hoo Hoo BRONZE, Palatine, Illinois
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The first death on your watch isn’t even your fault. You’re just one of the many interns who rush to the bedside when the code is called, peering at the doctors crowding around. As the patient gasps and chokes, you too gasp and choke as each electric shock blasts through the body. The doctors are grim-faced but determined; you hopelessly wonder why they even bother. Again and again the voltage is cranked up, but thunderbolts can only do so much.

The doctor holding the paddles slowly turns away from the flaccid flesh and another quietly asks, “Time of death?” You back away, feeling as if the defibrillator was really meant for you as your heart pounds out its own furious pace. A devastated mother takes your wrist. “Time of death?” she whispers, mis­taking you for a doctor, someone who tried his best to resuscitate her darling daughter, someone who knew what he was doing, someone with guts enough to challenge death. Not a first-year intern who never could remember which number was the systolic for blood pressure, not someone who didn’t even dare to take blood sugar levels.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” you blurt. “You’ll be able to talk to the doctors inside …,” you mumble, patting the trembling hand. She bites her lip and nods, letting go of the scrubs that you shouldn’t be wearing, the scrubs reserved for those who can save lives, not for those who don’t even know how to gently break death to a loved one.

The third death is similar, only this time you’ve been dragged along for scut work. You’re the one ramming your hands into the sternum, trying to force the fluttering heartbeat into your rhythm. You’re the one leaping out of the way of the defib paddles, jumping back to start compressions again. The patient bottoms out, but after the paddles thunder a third time, you can feel the thump of the heart, tangoing with yours as you collapse against a chair, arms quivering with strain. You shudder with relief. You brought him back. You saved him. You.

The eighteen death is the hardest. That little baby in neo-natal care should never have been forced to live on machines. Each breath is a struggle, and the medications are flowing in a poisonous concentration for such a small body, yet the parents insist on continuing the farce of life. They’re unwilling to bear any grief while their baby boy wheezes and thrashes weakly, seeking comfort but receiving only the hard embrace of a hospital cradle and the groan of machines.

The mother shrieks, “He’s blue! Do something!” After you reach the crib and despair at the readouts, you motion the code team away and beckon to the mother and father.

“The best thing for him is to take him off the machines,” you say.

The dad glares. “You want to kill him.”

They don’t understand the torture they have put him through. “If he even survives a year, he will be severely physically and mentally disabled. For life,” I persist.

The mother moans, “He’s blue! I don’t care. Just save him! Now!”

You nod at the code team, maneuvering yourselves around the tiny crib and pulling off the oxygen mask, trying to fit your large palms against the flimsy baby with his face scrunched up in a silent wail. The heart drugs aren’t having any effect due to the amount of medication already flowing through his body.

“Use the shocker!” the mother wails.

“We can’t!” you snarl, trying to give compressions to a weak chest and an even weaker malformed heart. “Your baby is too small and his heart is deformed! If we do, we’ll kill him!”

The code leader shakes his head. “Time of death ….”


“3:36 p.m.”

The thirty-third death is the best death. You’re the one in charge. If a code is called, you will wield the paddles, call out “Clear!” You have the final say on time of death if it occurs. You won’t let those words pass your lips.

But she smiles at you through her pure white hair. “I’m ready to leave. Are you ready to let me go?”

You sob, throw down the clipboard. “No, Mom! I don’t want you to.”

She still wears the tender smile of years past as her body wastes away and shrivels to a mere fraction of her vitality. “But it’s necessary. I need you to. And you know it.”

“Mom ….”

And she brushes her hand against yours, squeezing it once before closing her eyes. “You’re ready.”

You kiss her cooling cheek then note: “Time of death: 9:12 a.m., Thursday, April 24 ….”

Similar Articles


This article has 300 comments.

on Jun. 1 2009 at 7:33 pm
HisTinyDancer GOLD, Mount Olive, North Carolina
14 articles 6 photos 12 comments
WOW. That's all I can say. Wow.

BloodRose said...
on Jun. 1 2009 at 5:08 pm
This was an amazing piece...a bit choppy but amazing non the less

on May. 22 2009 at 11:51 pm
pinksage33 BRONZE, Woodstock, New York
4 articles 1 photo 211 comments
That made me cry it was so good!!!

Naimh said...
on May. 20 2009 at 1:16 am
Naimh, Palatine, Illinois
0 articles 0 photos 1 comment
Amazing... a piece of art...

on May. 18 2009 at 8:49 pm
Te-Roy-Say BRONZE, Apopka, Florida
2 articles 1 photo 7 comments
Wow! I read his in the last issue, and I couldn't take my eyes away from it!

Thank you for writing that! and Keep it up! xD

LilJ<3 GOLD said...
on May. 14 2009 at 8:14 pm
LilJ<3 GOLD, Gloucester, Virginia
11 articles 2 photos 60 comments
WOW...I absoultely loved the twist you put on the end... The way you wrote this was amazing... how did you formulate this idea? KEEP writing and spreading you talent for all to see....congrats

Jackie (:

foiledagain said...
on May. 13 2009 at 2:55 pm
Oh...my...God. That was so amazing. I love your writing style :)

on May. 10 2009 at 10:52 pm
EleanorRigby PLATINUM, New York City, New York
28 articles 3 photos 53 comments

Favorite Quote:
"The optomist proclaims we live in the best of worlds, and the pessimist fears this is true." - James Branch Cabell

This was very creative. What inspired you to write it? oh, and april 24th is my birthday, weird.

on May. 10 2009 at 5:48 pm
badwolf3 SILVER, Naperville, Illinois
5 articles 0 photos 1 comment
incredible, deep, really a great piece of writing

on May. 8 2009 at 3:56 pm
katiexoxox3 BRONZE, Cave Creek, Arizona
3 articles 0 photos 2 comments
woah, dont kill your self. this is good. even though i only read like 5 lines. :)

on May. 7 2009 at 2:32 am
*LunaNight* GOLD, Staten Island, New York
12 articles 0 photos 46 comments
Absolutly breath taking. have NEVER read anything so heart squeezing and passionate.

on May. 6 2009 at 5:11 am
broadwaybound, New York City, New York
0 articles 0 photos 3 comments
Huh. I really liked this, it was really bittersweet. The "death" that touched my heart the most was hearing about the little boy wheezing on the machines. In a way this was kind of eye opening to the reader, you never think about what goes on in a hospital on an everyday basis. There are many lives saved but just as many lost. It's beyond my comprehention how doctors deal with the stress of holding a person's life in their hands... this was a beautiful piece of writing, good job. :)

on May. 5 2009 at 8:59 pm
dark_roses14 PLATINUM, Mazon, Illinois
20 articles 0 photos 164 comments

Favorite Quote:
play the music, turn it up loud, dance around, and drown out reality

that was amazing. i truly enjoyed it.

liveluvdace said...
on May. 1 2009 at 11:59 pm
It was really good and i really liked it, but watch the POV try to keep it all in second person!

on Apr. 30 2009 at 9:43 pm
Jake Deutsch BRONZE, Montclair, New Jersey
2 articles 0 photos 1 comment
Good story, quick and compelling read.

AlexxxX GOLD said...
on Apr. 29 2009 at 5:52 pm
AlexxxX GOLD, Wichita, Kansas
18 articles 0 photos 13 comments

Favorite Quote:
\"A wise man makes more oppatunities then he finds\"

That is very heartbreaking but very very good writing, I loved it too.

on Apr. 24 2009 at 3:17 am
TrueBella1917 BRONZE, Keller, Texas
4 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"Off with your head!"
"Such a lovely head and I'd wear it on all the finest occasions"

This is an amazing story, keep up the amazing work that you've written, that had me crying... :) You wrote it thoroughly, informatively, and detailed extremely well, not many can do that so congratulations and again keep up the good work

on Apr. 24 2009 at 1:06 am
biggerinfinities SILVER, Superior, Colorado
7 articles 0 photos 353 comments

Favorite Quote:
“We accept the love we think we deserve.”
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

oh... that is so incredibly heartbreaking... i loved it