hand, I knew that something was wrong with this picture. As a society, why do we do this?
Tonight was a night that I didn’t enjoy much but felt joy. You know? It’s difficult to describe the emotions that I felt as I left the hospital. Should I be glad that the care was good? Should I be sad that that family was MIA?
You know, I can’t help that the family of a dying man wasn’t at his bedside. As much as I wish they were there, they weren’t. That isn’t totally true, as I walked into the room, a niece was sitting there. Uncomfortable but there. I thank her for that; she didn’t have to be there. She left shortly after I arrived and looked at me as if I should leave also. I told her that I was just going to sit there awhile. She left.
I ask again, why do we do this? Why not let dying people die? I didn’t know what to do; I just did what comes natural. I started singing.
GS and I don’t know each other very well. We formed a bond by being the first to the restroom after church. Strange? Yep. But true. I’ll never, ever forget the image of him, carrying his oxygen bottle to the front of the church to be an usher.
#1 called me today, GS’s granddaughter graduated with her. Said that GS was back in the hospital, with a max of 48 hours of life. So I went to see him.
What do you say at a time like this? The only thing I could think of was, I’m here. I’m praying for you, that your suffering will cease. That you will go home.
GS told me, in one of his moments of consciousness, that he didn’t know what to do. Said he didn’t feel anything because of the morphine. Didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to leave.
I cried. There really wasn’t much else I could do. I sang because I didn’t know what else to do. I rubbed his arm, because I didn’t know what else to do. Jesus said to love my neighbor. That’s all I could do.
A nurse came in and took a blood sample, it hurt him very much. His entire body twitched. Why do we do this? Why?
A respiratory tech came in for a breathing treatment. Why do we do this?
You know, we are supposed to have a fixed number of days. Why spend them alone in a hospital bed? SU frequently talks about this but I have no reference point. Tonight, I picked up a reference point. Why do we keep people “alive” just because we can? GS will be so much better off when he leaves us. Why do we fight it so?
I’m sad. Very sad tonight. Why does GS have to suffer so? Why does he feel the need to fight on?
I don’t know the answers to any of these questions. I only know that I felt a need to be there, to hold his hand as he prepared to meet the Father. And my tears are still flowing.