We had a woman come in tonight who was a drowning. Young and vital and somehow drowned in a freak accident. Asystole at the scene. Probably down twenty plus minutes before she got to us. She was young and I wanted so badly to save her so we hit her with everything--went way beyond ACLS and pushed and pushed and pushed. And she came back. She had a rhythm and she had nice thudding pulse, but she had been down so long that her brain is probably unsalvageable. Even afterwards it was dicey, and really I had to work to keep her stable. Went to talk to the husband. He was there with her children. They were totally unprepared. It was grim work. I never know what to say and find myself stumbling over words and trying to be clear and compassionate and always wondering if I'm doing either. Just miserable. I talked to the Biscuit and asked her to be up when I get home. I realize that I'm wanting so much to save someone to make up for having hurt the other lady so badly. I'm scared and desperate before codes and even before intubations--I'm physically nauseous when I have to intubate someone, no matter how straight forward I know it will be. It would be nice to help someone. To really help someone--to bring them back and give them back healed and whole to their loved ones. U-561