Dying 04.04.15
Note: This installment is humanized.
— § —
Skipper sat in the emergency room waiting area, his face in his hands, as he waited for the doctor to come back with news. His college roommate and best friend, Kowalski, sat 次 to him, wishing he could think of something to say to bring him comfort. They’d been waiting there for almost an hour. Finally, a surgeon stepped out of the operating room, her hands and arms wet after scrubbing out. She pulled his face mask under her chin.
“Mr. Guin?” she inquired toward Skipper, who stood.
“Yes. How is she?” he asked rubbing his bloodshot eyes.
“I’m Doctor Sullivan. Your mother has suffered serious head trauma,” the surgeon explained regretfully. “She is bleeding from the brain. It’s minor, but still fatal. We need your permission to operate,” she explained.
“Of course,” Skipper 発言しました without hesitation. Sullivan held up a hand.
“Before あなた make your final decision, I need to tell あなた the risks of the operation,” she said. Skipper swallowed and nodded. “Your mother is—old. Without the surgery, she might live a long while before passing on. However, she will slowly deteriorate in that time, and likely do nearly nothing but sleep, not even eat. She’ll likely experience many splitting headaches as well. If we do operate, there’s a chance we could save her, but I’m afraid it’s rather slim. There’s a high chance she’ll die during the operation,” she explained.
Skipper nodded and broke eye contact. Sullivan pressed her lips together.
“I’ll give あなた a few moments to make a decision,” she 発言しました before turning and leaving him.
Kowalski put a hand on his shoulder from behind. “Skip, I’m . . . I’m so sorry,” he 発言しました softly.
Skipper cringed and shook his head. “It’s my fault. If I’d have been there, I could’ve—done something,” he 発言しました running his hand over his face.
Kowalski gripped his shoulder tighter. “No, Skipper, あなた couldn’t have known. She could’ve just as easily fallen down the stairs if あなた had been there. It’s not your fault.”
Skipper pinched the bridge of his nose. “So my only options are let my mother suffer for who knows how long, または let her die now on the operating table. Doesn’t seem very fair.” He opened his eyes and looked at the doors to the operating room, as if he could see his mother beyond them. “She always told me life isn’t fair.”
Kowalski looked at him sympathetically. “So, what are あなた going to do?” he asked quietly.
Skipper looked at him, and then at Sullivan across the waiting room making notes on a chart. Without answering, he went to her.
“Doctor,” he called softly from behind. She turned and set her chart aside.
“Yes, sir?” she replied. “Have あなた come to a decision?”
Skipper looked down at the floor. “The surgery,” he started, “will she feel anything?” he asked slowly.
Sullivan put her fingers in her コート pockets with her thumbs hanging out. “No. She’ll be sedated. If we successfully stop the bleeding, she’ll only experience some headaches for a little while, and will be very tired for a week または so. And—if she doesn’t make it, it’ll be just like dying in her sleep,” she explained as she studied him.
After a moment of silence, he nodded. “Do the surgery,” he 発言しました without making eye contact. Doctor Sullivan nodded and turned to retrieve the consent papers, but Skipper put a hand on her shoulder. “Can I—have a moment alone with her first?” he requested.
Sullivan nodded sympathetically. “Of course. But she’s still sedated, so she may not realize you’re there,” she told him. Skipper nodded and Sullivan led him to the ICU, where his intubated mother was unconscious in bed. Sullivan left him and Skipper gently sat on the side of the bed. He took her hand.
“I don’t know if あなた can hear me, but I want あなた to know that everything will be okay. The doctors are going to take good care of you. I promise.” He swallowed and looked at her hand in his. “You’ve always taken good care of me, no matter what. It’s my turn to return the favor. I know it’s long overdue, and I’m sorry. But I’m going to now. And I promise I’ll make あなた proud.” He looked back at her peaceful face as she slept. He picked up her hand and gently kissed it. “I 愛 you, mom.”
A nurse entered the room with a team ready to take his mother for emergency surgery. “We need to get her to the operating room, Mr. Guin.”
Skipper nodded. He looked at his mother once もっと見る and leaned over her to キッス her on the forehead. “Thanks for everything,” he whispered. He stepped away and watched as the team wheeled his mother away.
That was the last time he saw her alive.
Note: This installment is humanized.
— § —
Skipper sat in the emergency room waiting area, his face in his hands, as he waited for the doctor to come back with news. His college roommate and best friend, Kowalski, sat 次 to him, wishing he could think of something to say to bring him comfort. They’d been waiting there for almost an hour. Finally, a surgeon stepped out of the operating room, her hands and arms wet after scrubbing out. She pulled his face mask under her chin.
“Mr. Guin?” she inquired toward Skipper, who stood.
“Yes. How is she?” he asked rubbing his bloodshot eyes.
“I’m Doctor Sullivan. Your mother has suffered serious head trauma,” the surgeon explained regretfully. “She is bleeding from the brain. It’s minor, but still fatal. We need your permission to operate,” she explained.
“Of course,” Skipper 発言しました without hesitation. Sullivan held up a hand.
“Before あなた make your final decision, I need to tell あなた the risks of the operation,” she said. Skipper swallowed and nodded. “Your mother is—old. Without the surgery, she might live a long while before passing on. However, she will slowly deteriorate in that time, and likely do nearly nothing but sleep, not even eat. She’ll likely experience many splitting headaches as well. If we do operate, there’s a chance we could save her, but I’m afraid it’s rather slim. There’s a high chance she’ll die during the operation,” she explained.
Skipper nodded and broke eye contact. Sullivan pressed her lips together.
“I’ll give あなた a few moments to make a decision,” she 発言しました before turning and leaving him.
Kowalski put a hand on his shoulder from behind. “Skip, I’m . . . I’m so sorry,” he 発言しました softly.
Skipper cringed and shook his head. “It’s my fault. If I’d have been there, I could’ve—done something,” he 発言しました running his hand over his face.
Kowalski gripped his shoulder tighter. “No, Skipper, あなた couldn’t have known. She could’ve just as easily fallen down the stairs if あなた had been there. It’s not your fault.”
Skipper pinched the bridge of his nose. “So my only options are let my mother suffer for who knows how long, または let her die now on the operating table. Doesn’t seem very fair.” He opened his eyes and looked at the doors to the operating room, as if he could see his mother beyond them. “She always told me life isn’t fair.”
Kowalski looked at him sympathetically. “So, what are あなた going to do?” he asked quietly.
Skipper looked at him, and then at Sullivan across the waiting room making notes on a chart. Without answering, he went to her.
“Doctor,” he called softly from behind. She turned and set her chart aside.
“Yes, sir?” she replied. “Have あなた come to a decision?”
Skipper looked down at the floor. “The surgery,” he started, “will she feel anything?” he asked slowly.
Sullivan put her fingers in her コート pockets with her thumbs hanging out. “No. She’ll be sedated. If we successfully stop the bleeding, she’ll only experience some headaches for a little while, and will be very tired for a week または so. And—if she doesn’t make it, it’ll be just like dying in her sleep,” she explained as she studied him.
After a moment of silence, he nodded. “Do the surgery,” he 発言しました without making eye contact. Doctor Sullivan nodded and turned to retrieve the consent papers, but Skipper put a hand on her shoulder. “Can I—have a moment alone with her first?” he requested.
Sullivan nodded sympathetically. “Of course. But she’s still sedated, so she may not realize you’re there,” she told him. Skipper nodded and Sullivan led him to the ICU, where his intubated mother was unconscious in bed. Sullivan left him and Skipper gently sat on the side of the bed. He took her hand.
“I don’t know if あなた can hear me, but I want あなた to know that everything will be okay. The doctors are going to take good care of you. I promise.” He swallowed and looked at her hand in his. “You’ve always taken good care of me, no matter what. It’s my turn to return the favor. I know it’s long overdue, and I’m sorry. But I’m going to now. And I promise I’ll make あなた proud.” He looked back at her peaceful face as she slept. He picked up her hand and gently kissed it. “I 愛 you, mom.”
A nurse entered the room with a team ready to take his mother for emergency surgery. “We need to get her to the operating room, Mr. Guin.”
Skipper nodded. He looked at his mother once もっと見る and leaned over her to キッス her on the forehead. “Thanks for everything,” he whispered. He stepped away and watched as the team wheeled his mother away.
That was the last time he saw her alive.
