From a Fellow ICU Nurse: Honoring Alex Pretti

Alex Pretti was an ICU nurse, just like me.

We ICU nurses look at life and all its darkest shadows with eyes wide open, and close up, 

bearing regular, intimate witness to the multitude of tragedies that befall people. 

We go to them, think about them, and we think about our lives and our role in light of them. 

This is our every day when we go to work, thinking about how the only innately appropriate response is to walk right into the suffering, 

to do something about it,

to push past the felt internal differences that might otherwise build barriers between us and our patient, and care for them because that’s what a right, ethical, humane response is.

We think a lot about our own mortality, because our work doesn’t give us the luxury of ignorance. 

We think about how we want to die, which means we think a lot about how we want to live. 

We think a ton about quality of life, and so much of what defines that quality is to feel that life is meaningful, hopeful, joyful, and full of love and respect. So much of our work is to advocate for quality of life in the midst of chaos and suffering.

We focus intently on our specific patients and are also acutely aware of the broader community needs, and our role in a larger team. We constantly act on these multiple layers of responsibility. It makes perfect sense to me that Alex was focused on caring for one person in the context of a community protest for justice and safety. 

None of us are perfect by any means, but this is how we are wired, how we move and operate in the world. 

If Alex Pretti had walked into our ICU, I would have recognized his core and trusted him immediately. The understanding and bond is so unique and deep.

I know we didn’t know him personally, and yet in so many ways it feels like we did. 

In the ICU, we often hold a moment of silence to honor the lives of those we cared for, who passed under our watch. 

And so, we honor you, Alex. We honor your life, your care, your partnership in this work, your citizenship and the way you lived it out to the end. We honor you.

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