I worked in Intensive Care for 12 years and I saw some strange things.

One night we had four patients in a row lose very important lines. No one was in the room with them (Our desks were designed so that we had a desk between two patient rooms. We could see both rooms from one desk.). The patients were sedated, on the vent. The first had a central line that pulled out. We managed that, stabilized the patient, and then the next patient pulled out their breathing tube. The next a feeding tube. The next another breathing tube. There was no reason we could figure out for this.

Some patients would see a little boy in red pajamas come to their door or into their rooms. The patient would die soon afterwards. I only had one patient that saw him. She had a stroke. We were doing comfort care only. I was working night shift. Throughout the night she had periods of being afraid, so I would hold her hand and we would talk, the best she could, and this would calm her down.

During one such talk, she said, ‘Watch out for Bruce.’ Bruce is my dad's name. This woman didn't know me, did not know my dad and I had made no mention of him while taking care of her. I said, ‘Who is Bruce?’ Thinking maybe it was someone close to her. She laughed and said, ‘You know who he is. You look just like him.’ I had chills all over. I do look like my dad. Just like him. She said, ‘Watch out for him. Make sure he doesn't fall.’ And then she drifted off to sleep.

A little while after that, she saw the little boy dressed in red. She asked who he was, why we had children in the unit. I told her we didn't. It was an adult ICU. I asked her to describe him. She said, ‘I guess he's about two or so. Blonde. Wearing red pajamas. He comes to the door and just stares at me. He doesn't come inside.’ She died later that day on day shift.

We had superstitions about certain things. Such as, if a patient was dying, tie a knot in the bed sheet and the patient would last through your shift. Or, if a patient was dying and it seemed to be unusually prolonged, open the doors or windows and give their spirits somewhere to go. Sometimes patients would hold on until a certain loved one arrived at the hospital to say their goodbyes. Some patients would hold on until a date had passed so that they wouldn't die on an anniversary or birthday or other important date. Occasionally we'd have a room where several patients in a row would die. So we started asking the chaplain to cleanse the room after three deaths. That would almost always end the cycle.

The worst thing I saw was with a very mean old woman. She was in our unit for a couple of days. She was awful. She would say mean things to the staff. She cursed at everyone. She didn't have any family or friends that came to visit her. One night she had a cardiac arrest and we put her on the vent. She was awake on the vent. And she was terrified. She was looking up, not seeing anything in this world, and she was shaking her head, ‘No!’ very emphatically. She was holding her arms up as if to protect herself. She looked like she was trying to scream, but of course she couldn't make any sound because of the breathing tube. We tried to calm her down, to sedate her, but nothing worked. She had another cardiac arrest and died. After her death, we contacted her sons. It was then we learned why no one visited. She had abused her two sons their entire lives. Both had cut off contact with her. Whether you believe in hell or not, she was going somewhere she didn't want to go.

There are more stories, but these are the ones that stand out the most.

Edit: Thank you all for the upvotes!! A lot of people have asked if anything happened to my dad after that. He had his gallbladder removed not too long after that and had complications. He was in the hospital about a week. There were a few mistakes made that were caught bc I was there and watching so closely. He didn't fall though. Anytime he's in the hospital, I make sure I'm there and watching closely. Especially when he’s up walking around!