After two days of not being able to get up for more than an hour or two or to be up, to wake at all, Elizabeth asked Linda to contact the palliative unit to come get her. But, as Elizabeth was told on Monday she would hear from them, and did not until Thursday, when she was unconscious and too weak for a call…it seems even in going down, there are bloody delays. Even when it takes the will to get up, to eat so that the organs of the body, the liver, the bladder, start working again, it is not enough.
When will I get the time to write again? Does a picture of me lying unconscious show you something, even after 17 hours a day of it, or 22, day after day of unconscious and pee that is pure white, with no protein at all because everything is shut down. A picture of five layers of quilts atop me, because my body cannot heat me anymore, does not have the energy or the capacity. Or the bleeding, from the nose, and the ear, and the anus, all the time. IS that what there should be pictures of?
I watched this the other day and I realize that maybe people don’t know what to say and yet, since I have no knowledge of anyone saying or thinking anything except Linda who talks less and less on the basis if you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all.
I have been worried that every month I live, which seems to burn years out of my body, it makes my organs not useful for donation. That was the one blessing of dying early, was the gift of life to someone else. Only it seems this disease destroys everything. You were right, you roller skating peds palliative doctor. You were right when you told me you wouldn’t watch this happen to me, that it is a cruelty beyond viewing. Come back to the living, and out of the morgue. For I will soon be gone.
1 hour ago