This part of our death conversation on the podcast got personal real quick, and I think its worth sharing on its own because it hit different than the more philosophical stuff we usually talk about.
We started by asking around the table who’s the closest person to each of us that has actually died. One of the younger guys, hes only 23, said honestly it was probably his grandfather, and thats really about the extent of his experience with death so far. He’s still got three great-grandparents alive, which is wild when you think about it. He straight up admitted he’s probably the most “separated” from death out of anyone at the table just because of his age, and I think thats a fair and honest thing to admit.
But then the conversation shifted to one of the older guys who used to work as a CNA (certified nursing assistant), and this is where it got really heavy. He talked about how part of the reason he ended up quitting that job was because death slowly became normal to him. Not in a good way. He said he became so apathetic toward death in general that it actually upset him that it DIDN’T upset him anymore, if that makes sense.
He explained that he’d form genuine friendships with the people he cared for, some of them for several years. He’d learn about their lives, their families, everything, because a lot of the time he was literally the only person they had to talk to on a regular basis besides the other staff. Their actual families would visit maybe on holidays, if that. So the staff basically became their day to day family by default, whether anyone signed up for that or not.
And then eventually you get to this point where someone passes and the response internally just becomes “oh yeah, he died, lets clean out the room, get someone else in there.” Like a checklist item. He specifically remembered one guy who was a resuscitate order, meaning they were supposed to attempt to bring him back, and he died while they were actively trying to resuscitate him. And in the moment, it just… didnt do anything to him emotionally. Nothing.
It wasnt until later that night, lying there thinking about it, that it actually bothered him – not the death itself, but the fact that it didnt bother him. That disconnect is what made him realize he needed to get out of that line of work before it changed him even more.
We asked if he thinks that experience is still with him on some level, specifically wondering if thats part of why the thought of his own death doesnt seem to bother him much today. He said probably, yeah. Some part of that numbness probably never fully left. And he pointed out that he was about the same age as the 23 year old in the group when he went through all of this himself, which is a pretty stark contrast between the two of their relationships with death at similar ages.
I think what stuck with me most from this part of the talk is how much a job like that can quietly reshape how you process something as fundamental as death, without you even realizing its happening in real time. You dont notice the numbness building, you just notice one day that youve gone numb, and by then the damage (or maybe the coping mechanism, depending on how you look at it) is already done.
Anyway, heavy stuff, but I think its an important perspective that doesnt get talked about enough – what constant proximity to death actually does to a person over time, even when they’re just doing their job.
