I was a CNA (nursing assistant) for 20 years. I have many tales... here is one of them.

I had a patient--male, mid 50's, in the nursing home for non life threatening things. Let's say he made poor decisions on what he put in his body on a daily basis. One night, he began screaming incessantly, which was unusual for him. Normally he was shy and withdrawn around most, though I did get him to come out of his shell a bit. I rushed in his room to see what was going on, and he was screaming about demons coming to kill him.

I looked around the room and of course saw nothing, and tried to gentle his fears. He kept babbling about demons, pointing to a corner of the room, asking me if I could see them. I told him that I couldn't see them, but I was sorry that he did. I explained that while this seemed very real to him, there was nothing there.

I went to get him a nice warm bowl of oatmeal, hoping that filling his belly with some hot food would relax him. As I'm preparing it in the microwave, I hear the sound of several sets of feet running down the hallway (this is NEVER a good sign).

I throw open the kitchenette door to see nurses and aides running into my male patient's room. I immediately follow suit and run down there too, afraid of what I would see but my gut already knew.

My patient had died in the few minutes I was out of his room, both hands gripping the bedrails (yes, it was that long ago). He had a look of horror on his face that still haunts me to this very day. I can't explain the sheer terror etched in his face. Most people, when they die, their facial muscles relax and go slack. His face held all the terror he must have experienced on passing. We had to PEEL his fingers away from the handrails, one by one. I was so upset that two of my fellow CNA's took over the task of cleaning and positioning his body.

Sir, I can't remember your name, but I am sorry things happened like that for you. I will never forget it.