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2 Points of View For and Against.
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2 Points of View For and Against. |
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SPIRIT Senior Member
since 2002-12-29
Posts 1745California Desert |
FOR AND AGAINST I remember the accident, all to well. The car coming towards me from the opposite direction, crossing the divider into my lane. The immense feeling of fear, as I realized, too late, that I had absolutely no avenue of escape, I was going to be in a head-on collision, like it or not. I was driving my husband’s pride and joy, his ‘64 Mustang, with no airbags, and lousy seat belts. I remember trying to brace myself, even though I knew it was an exercise in futility. The driver of the other car had died; life long seconds before his vehicle crossed the divider. A fatal heart attack. As he passed from this life to the next we became, for want of a better expression, spiritually bonded. His apology, filled with unspoken sadness was a fast arrow to my heart. My forgiveness was equally as swift. I felt his gratitude for this. In a brief second of Eternity we had been as one. I grieve for this man’s passing as my loved ones are grieving for me. My memory is a little spotty, to say the least, from that point on, but by the talk in the room, I have been here for many days. Obviously my family has been told that I am brain-dead, a vegetable, and that I will never improve beyond that point. Damn it! I don’t understand this at all. I can hear everything so clearly and from the way the conversation appears to be going, I am being given up on. Why? For Heaven’s sake, why? I am convinced that I am neither brain-dead or a vegetable. I am fully understanding what is going on around me, and I really believe that with just a little extra effort I could tell you exactly how long I have been here. My husband is crying. This strong man who rules our house with a firm chauvinistic hand has become nothing more than a blubbering shell of his normal self. Believe me, I have empathy for his pain, I wish I could reach out and touch him and dry his tears, but my limbs do not respond to my commands. He and the others in the room have absolutely no idea that I am aware of all the activity around me. I want to scream out not to turn of the life-support system because I am alive, and if I am alive maybe I can get better. I am not a fighter, never needed to be as my husband was more than strong enough for both of us. He wanted me to need him, to be dependant on him, but now I feel the positions have been reversed. I want to fight for my right to live, whilst he is whinging, sniveling and giving up. I may not be able to see him, but I can certainly sense his indecisiveness. He is asking opinions of all, then going back for second and third opinions. He has paced around my bed so many times he must have worn a groove around it. It is a load of  , my opinions should count for something, but no one is asking me. There appears to be quite a few people in the room, a doctor and nurses, my husband, our oldest son, my parents, so you see, I really am aware. My husband kisses me, the warmth of his lips remains indelible on my skin, and his tears caress my cheek and I feel the desire I always feel when he is close. My parents are next, whispering as if scared to wake me, and then my oldest son who tells me how much he and his siblings love me. There is activity in the room, moving of equipment. The removal of needles from my arms and back of my hands. That strange, low, constant hum of the life-saving machinery is no longer. My end is imminent. I am crying helplessly, but the tears are falling on the inside of my head. I am not ready to die. I am alive, I am aware.  ! ! ! My heartbeat appears to be slowing down. I am going hazy. No pain, just sliding into nothingness. Such an enormous emptiness, I am filled with the knowledge that I was not master of my own fate. Why, I never even had the chance to say “GOODB--.”It’s very strange, I’m alive and fully aware, yet those outside of me are talking of ‘pulling the plug’. I want to scream out to them to quit talking about it and just do it. For some reason though my mouth does not seem to work and my eyes remain closed. I appear to be in a state of captivity inside my head. I want out in the worse possible way. I remember the accident, all to well. I was just putting along, just under the speed limit, Willie Nelson was singing on the radio, and I was singing right along with him. Suddenly, a blue car, heading in the opposite direction lost control, crossing the divider into my lane. The immense feeling of fear, as I realized, too late, that I had absolutely no avenue of escape, I was going to be in a head-on collision, like it or not. I could not steer away from the deadly aim of the blue car, and the impact, although swift appeared to be in slow motion. The driver of the other car had died; life long seconds before his vehicle crossed the divider. A fatal heart attack. As he passed from this life to the next we became, for want of a better expression, spiritually bonded. His apology, filled with unspoken sadness was a fast arrow to my heart. My forgiveness was equally as swift. I felt his gratitude for this. In a brief second of Eternity we had been as one. I grieve for this man’s passing as my loved ones are grieving for me. My memory is a little spotty, to say the least, from that point on, but by the talk in the room, I have been here for quite awhile. It is pretty obvious that my family has been told that I am brain-dead, a vegetable, and that I will never improve beyond that point. Fine! Great! So get on with it. Pull the lousy plug and be done with it. My husband is being totally wishy-washy, very indecisive; he has become someone I no longer recognize. Damn! I am angry and impatient; I don’t even know myself at this point. I don’t like being inside this claustrophobic space called my head. My life has flashed past me so many times that I feel that I am locked into a channel of bad reruns on non-stop television. My back aches and my rear end is unbelievably sore. I hate all the wires and tubes they seem to have me tied up to. There is no dignity at all in this situation. I am too tired to live like this. I am no better than a vegetable and I want out of this deplorable situation as fast as possible. I am very bored and extremely unhappy in this state of suspended life, or should I say non-life? I can’t believe that that is my husband I am hearing. The man, who was my strong, broad-shouldered supporter appears to be no more. He has been reduced to nothing more than a baby, a sniveling cry-baby, at that, at he seems to be doing nothing right - for me. How clearly I see all of this, and yet no one is even aware that I am capable of looking, of feeling, or of even having an opinion of my own about this whole sad state of affairs. Well! It looks that he has finally made his decision, and I am sure that it is the wrong one. Yep! Just as I thought, most definitely the wrong one. I can tell they are all leaving the room and leaving me hooked up to this infernal machinery. I am so mad, so frustrated, sad and bored to tears with the repetitive memories inside my head. I remember we put our beloved dog down when its time came, my dear husband didn’t want him to suffer. So what about me, does he feel so little for me that he can leave me to suffer in this manner? Unhook me, please, please unhook me. Don’t leave me existing this way. I am so angry I could willingly throttle that husband of mine, if only I could, then I guess I wouldn’t need to. Oh well, where were we? Ah yes, back to the reruns of a life I have already lived, and re-lived, and re-lived. Thanks for nothing! [This message has been edited by SPIRIT (01-30-2003 06:44 PM).] |
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lorenlynn Member
since 2003-01-27
Posts 203California Beaches |
Interesting read - I especially liked the little smiley faces replacing the bad words - four letter words I presume. |
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Joyce Johnson
since 2001-03-10
Posts 9912Washington State |
I just tuned in and found you here. I love your presentation with two outcomes. Very nice. Joyce |
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SPIRIT Senior Member
since 2002-12-29
Posts 1745California Desert |
Thank you both. I have often wondered about people who are in vegetative states, wondering about what goes on inside of them as they lay there, thus this bit of prose was born. I be me BUT who does me be? |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
Interesting...James |
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kaile
since 2000-02-06
Posts 5146singapore |
SPIRIT, to digress a little, let me say that I have always admired people who can write from imagination. Doesn't count for much of a compliment, I know this is a splendid piece of writing. Simply gorgeous. You got me thinking about a situation I have never thought about before and as a bonus, presented me with 2 possible scenarios. I enjoyed these lines particularly. I don’t like being inside this claustrophobic space called my head. My life has flashed past me so many times that I feel that I am locked into a channel of bad reruns on non-stop television. |
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