Abstract
Called to your bedside,
Beeps, whistles, sobs,
PEEP, tidal volume, ventilator knobs.
Brainstem tumor – but why? But how?
Talk, but not breathe – injustice! Injustice!
So young, so fast, speak to me your wish;
Tell your girlfriend, mommy, daddy, the white coats,
You tell me you're suffering – but we gave you the meds!
How can you ask for the unthinkable? How can we not “fix”?
Chaplain…morphine…psychiatry. Still. Still?!
Machines are your reality; your presence is our sanity.
You asked for “stop”; you whispered, you cried.
My ears say “hear”, my left says “listen”, my right says “understand”,
My heart says “respect”.
When words did not speak, the eyes had it.
We said goodbye. Holding hands, chapter closed, story never-ending.
Alarm – silence. Comfort. Peace.