“At some point, it is what many of us experience in our lives as the physician-child paradox. You hold out hope for the best possible outcome, but when the data and your parent are staring you in the face, it is hard to deny the odds and experience. [..]
At the end of the day, the look of defeat remained on his face. He had been a good sport, but the outcome was not going to change. Either he or fate had decided it. I could not tell.
“I love you, too, Dad,” I replied. “Please keep fighting.”
That was it. We looked each other in the eye. I hoped to talk to him tomorrow, but somewhere inside me I knew this was for the last time. And yet, I still walked out of that room. In retrospect, it was my first regret. What I really wanted to say was this: “Thank you for everything. You have given me this amazing life for which I am so grateful. You showed me the way and put me through medical school. I hope you are proud of me for what I’ve done, what I stand for, and what I want to do with the rest of my life.”
But to say this would admit to him I knew he was near the end, and I didn’t want to give him that permission to let go, to leave us. I’m not sure if I regret more not saying what I truly wanted to say for our last conversation or trying not to allow him to give up.
Regret number 2. Fear is temporary, but regret is forever. “Good night,” were the last words I said as I walked out of the room.
The call 2 hours later was expected. He was getting tired, and they asked for permission to intubate and put him on a ventilator should he not improve. He did not want this, but I could not give up on him yet, so I provided consent. At that moment, I should have just hopped in the car to go talk to him one last time, but the optimist in me hoped he would make it through another night, and fear kept me in my bed. My driving over would be giving him permission to give up. Instead, I hoped he would fight through to the morning. This was my third regret.
The fourth regret I have from that last day was missing the call at 1 am. Knowing the number as I looked at my phone a couple hours later, I knew what had occurred without calling back. This was not what he wanted, but the physician in me had to try to save him, to give him a chance. Even when he did not want to be saved.”
Full article, DA Handel, JAMA, 2025.3.27