Growing up, my mother was in and out of our lives. We knew she had “her own set of problems to deal with” and that it had nothing really to do with us because we were told by kind and well meaning family members. In 2001, we received a letter from an attorney notifying us of her death and the need to meet at the office to discuss some financial matters. In the meantime, we searched for answers and found out she had committed suicide. It was all surreal. We got a copy of the coroner’s report and the narrative started out like this: “I arrived at ___ Hospital Emergency Room and observed a 64 year old morbidly obese female with a gunshot wound through the right temple.”
I, also am in a medical profession & understand the importance of documenting everything but there are places to document that. All he had to do was write her height and weight. The families see the narratives and now all I can think of is my poor mother having given up on life and there she laid and the last thing someone said about her was one of the things that drove her to that act in the first place. I think about that a lot. I’m sure the investigator never thought twice about it.