I have...but not in a sense most people think about it. I've had many patients who were on ventilators and did not expect to recover in which case the patient's families would request to withdraw care. The process had to be meticulously documented in the chart and in the MD notes. I would say 5-6 times I have turned off the ventilator and basically inject a patient with enough fentanyl, morphine, etc. to prevent any signs of suffering while depressing any breathing functions. These are huge amounts...basically if I injected this much into a healthy person they would overdose. So, yeah, it feels weird...even though I knew I was doing it to prevent further suffering and was the most humane thing to do, I still felt like someone's life is being taken by my actions. Afterwards we clean up the body removing all breathing tubes, IV's, or other catheters left over. We bandage wounds so they don't weep, even though it's not too tough since the heart isn't pumping blood anymore and blood doesn't flow as freely. We fix them up a bit so the family can look at them again without all the tubes and such sticking out of them...it really helps with the closure. I always seemed to have the same feeling about it...this person in front of me had a life just like me, they grew up, ate, drank, loved, worked hard, suffered, and now it was over...I was looking down at them like someone will be looking down at me someday. Enjoy it while you can...*end depression rant*
I think you should know I've killed a lot of people. Some escort girls in an apartment uptown. Some homeless people maybe five or ten. Some NYU girl I met in Central Park, I left her in a parking lot. I killed Bethany, my old girlfriend, with a nailgun and some man, some old f***** with a dog last week. I killed another girl with a chainsaw. I had to, she almost got away. And there was someone else there I don't remember, maybe a model, but she's dead, too. And Paul Allen. I killed Paul Allen with an axe. In the face. His body is dissolving in a bathtub in Hell's Kitchen. I don't want to leave anything out here. I guess I've killed maybe 20 people maybe 40! I have tapes of a lot of it. Some of the girls have seen the tapes. I even... I ate some of their brains and I tried to cook a little. Tonight, I just had to kill a lot of people! And I'm not sure I'm gonna get away with it, this time. I mean... I mean I guess I'm a pretty sick guy.
No I didn't. Please explain. You obviously didn't catch Wakko67's Die Hard BS story since you posted this.
"I went on a manhunt once. I just got back from Nam. I was hitchhiking through Oregon. Next thing I know there's a bunch of cops chasing after me through the woods! I had to take them all out, it was a bloodbath!"
Though unlikely, my dad still worries that he might have. About 35 years ago, he hit a pedestrian that walked in front of his car. He said that when he hit him, the guy just crumpled like he had broken everything. When he got out to help him, the guy got up and ran off. My dad thinks he was coked up or something, and that gave him the energy. He asked around at the local hospitals, and no one that matched the description ever showed up. There was also no news of anyone dying from that kind of trauma. Combined with the fact that the guy did run off after the hit, it seems unlikely that he died, but my dad still worries about it.
