“We Might Not Come for Him”: Why Doctors Don’t Judge Those Who Refuse to Care for Sick Family Members

I work in a neurological rehabilitation unit in a bustling hospital in New York City. Every day, we see patients who have suffered strokes, traumatic brain injuries, or other debilitating conditions. Our job is to help them regain as much independence as possible before they are discharged. However, the reality is that many of these patients are still weak and forgetful when they leave our care. They need someone to pick them up and help them transition back to their lives.

One such patient was Vincent. He was a middle-aged man with a rugged appearance that reminded us of an artist. His arms were covered in tattoos, and his hair was always disheveled. Despite his tough exterior, Vincent was a kind soul who had been through a lot. He had suffered a severe stroke that left him partially paralyzed and struggling with memory issues.

As Vincent’s discharge date approached, we began the process of contacting his family. He had mentioned having a sister named Aria, so I gave her a call. The phone rang several times before she finally picked up.

“Hello?” Aria’s voice was hesitant.

“Hi, Aria. This is Ruby from the neurological rehabilitation unit at St. Mary’s Hospital. I’m calling about your brother, Vincent. He’s ready to be discharged, and we need someone to come pick him up.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “I… I’m not sure if I can do that,” Aria finally said.

“Is there someone else in the family who might be able to help?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral.

“No, it’s just me,” she replied. “But Vincent and I haven’t spoken in years. We had a falling out, and I don’t think I can take care of him.”

I understood her hesitation. Caring for a sick family member is a huge responsibility, especially when there are unresolved issues between them. But Vincent needed someone, and time was running out.

“Aria, I understand this is difficult,” I said gently. “But Vincent really needs someone to help him right now. He’s still very weak and forgetful. If you can’t take him in, we might have to look into other options.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said before hanging up.

Days passed, and we still hadn’t heard back from Aria. Vincent’s discharge date came and went, and he remained in our care. He would often ask about his sister, his eyes filled with hope that she might come for him.

One evening, as I was finishing my shift, I saw Vincent sitting by the window, staring out at the city lights. I sat down next to him.

“Any news from Aria?” he asked quietly.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Vincent. We haven’t heard back from her.”

He sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I guess she’s not coming.”

It was heartbreaking to see him like this. Despite our best efforts to provide him with the care he needed, there was only so much we could do within the confines of the hospital.

Eventually, we had no choice but to transfer Vincent to a long-term care facility. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the only option left. As he was wheeled out of our unit for the last time, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness.

In our line of work, we see this all too often. Families torn apart by past grievances, unable or unwilling to come together in times of need. It’s easy to judge from the outside, but the truth is that every family has its own complexities and struggles.

Vincent’s story is a stark reminder that not every patient has a happy ending waiting for them outside the hospital doors. Sometimes, all we can do is provide the best care possible and hope that one day, their families will find a way to heal.