On death and dying

I learned today that a patient I took care of a couple of weeks ago died.  She was 8 years old and had a brain tumor.  This was the third time that she had a recurrence.  Her radiation therapy and chemotherapy gave her an infection in her lungs that she was not able to overcome.

I know death is a normal part of working in the field of medicine, but that doesn't make it any less sad.  The saddest part is that her parents didn't want to tell her that she was most likely not going to make it.  I realize this conversation would be extremely difficult to have with an 8-year-old, much less your own child.  But kids have amazing intuition and she probably knew that something bad was going to happen.  I think that having that conversation with her could have relieved a lot of anxiety for her.  Her parents just wanted her to be happy, but it's hard to be happy when you're scared because you don't know what is going on.  I know this isn't my decision, but I think I would feel differently about her death if I could believe that she wasn't scared.  

I doubt that having patients die will ever get any easier.  In fact, I hope it doesn't, because death is not something that I ever want to be desensitized to.