Pull the plug. The patient is dead. The patient is barely breathing. All hope seems about gone. He's slipping away. He's looking to the left, where dying people always look. Or to the right, where they sometimes look. He's clawing at the air. His eyes are rolled back in his head.
I'm looking down. I can hear the death rattle. That tells you something, that his air flow is restricted. Too much gunk somewhere. The lungs are like breathing sacks, but if they're full of mucous they can't move freely. The death rattle takes place when the fullness is nearly complete, when suctioning doesn't do any good because the production of harmful byproducts is too great.
I'm looking down. Thinking how it always goes with them. They're in a bad way. It raises a question. I always have this question. Why do we talk about "they" and "them"? It's the same as in our nature. We're all wired to fail. The system can't go on. Everything's in a state of permanent decay. I've got cavities in my teeth. I've probably got free-floating rogue cells too. The doctor's not really checking you entirely. He taps your knee and sees your reflexes are OK. That means you're OK.
I look right at the cranium, the forehead area, about at the hairline or an inch or so above the hairline. Where is the soul going to exit? Will it be going through that spot, or more from the back of the head? We don't know, except my intuition tells me it's one of those places. Maybe the center of the head. Definitely the head. Unless it's somewhere else. They weighed a body and determined the soul weighs .0010 of an ounce.
I stare into the closed eyes of the dying man. I concentrate. I send the rays of concentration. I try to communicate with the soul without speaking. "Soul, hear me. Be released."
A nurse comes in. "Follow the light!" she says loudly. "Go to Jesus!" she says. She actually said that. "We'll get along OK," a family member says. "Don't worry." "We love you."
Someone steps in to moisten his lips. You don't want to die with dry lips. I don't know anyone who would.
Post a Comment