It just never gets easier. Every situation is different, but every outcome the same.

I hate those stupid surveys that float around email that always ask “Have you ever seen a dead person”

Actually, I have, and I have seen more than I wish. It’s not some thrilling bit of info for an asinine survey. It’s a real event, with real people and real emotions.
You want to know what it’s  REALLY like? Think of this:

The family is sobbing in the hallway while the person to whom you spoke a day ago is now a discarded shell, the actual person having escaped to places Other.

The feeling of shutting off an IV and taking out the IV catheter from a vein that does not have any blood pressure.

The sound of the “death rattle” when the dying person loses their gag reflex.

The feeling of utter helplessness when you know you can’t do anything to make anyone feel better.

The fleeting feeling of fear when you give the dying person just a little more morphine because even though they are non-verbal, they are grimacing, and the hope that you didn’t give enough to kill them but just enough to comfort them. While at the same time the rational thought that even if you DID give them enough to suppress their respirations, your INTENT is to provide pain relief, and therefore you did nothing wrong so you give the morphine.

The sound of the shroud when you unfold it from the bag.

The fear in the families faces when they come to say “I think you’d better come….” and can’t finish the sentence.

The sadness in your own voice when you tell them that you cannot hear their loved one’s heart beat, and that you cannot hear their loved one breathing.

The difficulty in watching other grownups cry.

Having to call a doc and say “I need you to come pronounce my patient”
The heavy feeling of walking into the supply room and getting out the morgue kit.

After all their pain…all their tears….they thank you.  The family who loses a cherished loved one thanks you.

You go home, and hug your children and cuddle up to your spouse, trying not to remember the sounds of grief that echoed down the hallway as you punched out and left work.