In a Hospital Private Room: Different Ways of Seeing

This happened at a hospital where I used to work.

I no longer remember the details clearly, but at the time, a highly successful man was hospitalized in the terminal stage of his illness. He was nearing death, yet he remained fully conscious and able to communicate without difficulty.

Several family members were gathered in his private room. Right in front of him — while he was still fully aware — they were discussing the inheritance and what would happen after his death.

The patient sat silently, looking down.

I felt sorry for him. Here was a man who did not know how much longer he had left to live, and instead of grieving the little time they had remaining together, his family was discussing what would come after his death. I remember thinking how cruel they seemed.

But one of the staff members I was making rounds with said,

“Maybe he was someone who achieved success in society but neglected his family. Perhaps now, at the end of his life, he regrets not having cared for them more.”

Certainly, if he had spent his life neglecting his family, then being treated this way could be seen as a kind of consequence. That interpretation also made sense to me.

Later, when I mentioned the story to another colleague, they said,

“I don’t think someone like that necessarily regrets their actions. People like that often don’t care what their families think of them. If anything, he might even resent them instead.”

Then I brought it up with one of my own family members, who said,

“No matter what kind of person someone has been, I think anyone would feel lonely if nobody mourned them at the end of their life.”

Every interpretation seemed possible.

I found it fascinating how differently people can view the exact same moment.

What the patient himself was truly thinking, however, is something I will never know.