to keep them from freezing over winter. There were thirty rose bushes around the house and in the garden. They were Aunt Dee’s favorites and I took extra special care of them. I filled all the bird houses with sunflower seeds and put out kibble for the neighborhood cats. This time of year there wasn’t much to do in the garden, so after I petted the cats, I went inside and got down my books from nursing school. One said you should talk to coma patients and touch them, let them know you’re there.
I had a cat once. Her named was Bethany. She died when I was thirteen and I cried for so long, my Aunt Dee swore she’d never let me get a pet again cause she couldn’t stand to see me unhappy. Now I just feed the neighborhood cats and that’s okay because I can pet them, but I know they’re not mine. So I don’t think I’d be too sad if they didn’t show up one day.
I still miss Aunt Dee, and she died five years ago. She was old and she told me she was ready to go and that I shouldn’t be sad. It still hurts.
I usually sleep from three in the afternoon till ten. But that day it was hard to get to sleep because I was thinking about Michael. I decided to go in early see him. I got to work at ten o’clock.
Michael was sleeping. The sound of the machine that helped him breathe was very relaxing. There was still dried blood around his nose. It made him look dead so I carefully washed it off.
“How are you today, Michael?” I asked him as I worked. “Your nose is pretty swollen. I’ll try to be gentle.”
“He can’t hear you,” Mr. Howser said loudly. “He’s in a coma.”
Cats and birds and other animals couldn’t understand me either, but that didn’t mean they didn’t like hearing your voice. I didn’t tell that to Mr. Howser. Michael looked less scary once I’d gotten all the blood off.
Sharon pulled me aside when she came in. Her round, brown face was very serious.
“Jonesy, you know that patient in C14, Michael Havers?”
“Yeah?”
Her lips pinched together. “They’re taking him off the ventilator at six a.m. The chaplain’s coming. I thought you might not want to be here. You can go home early if you want.”
“What? Why would they do that? He’s going to get better!”
Sharon shook her head in that disgusted way of hers. “His parents signed some papers saying we couldn’t use life support. And he’s not on their insurance. He doesn’t appear to have any insurance at all.”
I pulled away from her and ran to the bathroom. I barely made it to the toilet before I threw up.
No insurance. No life support.
They were going to kill him. They were going to kill Michael.
I knew he could live if they just gave him time. But they weren’t going to do that, those parents of his that should be sent to Mars. And if the family said no, the hospital had to do it, I guess, had to take him off the ventilator.
I was so upset; I could hardly work that night. I made my usual rounds, but every chance I had I’d go sit with Michael. He didn’t have anyone else. I didn’t either, really, but at least I had my work and my body wasn’t broken. I could take care of myself. He couldn’t. I wished I knew a lot of fancy laws or had the right thing to say to stop this from happening. But if the hospital was behind it, what could I do?
“I want to be there,” I told Sharon, “when they turn off the machine.”
“Oh, Jonesy!” She hugged me. “I don’t think you should do that, honey. You’re already so upset. Maybe it’s his time. Maybe Jesus is waiting for him with open arms and he needs to go.”
“It’s not his time,” I said, in what Aunt Dee called my stubborn voice. “And there’s nobody else to hold his hand.”
Sharon’s face scrunched up then and she waved a hand in front of it as if trying to air it out. She just shook her head as if she couldn’t speak and walked away. But I figured it would be okay for me to be there, because Sharon was almost as sad as I was.
The
I had a cat once. Her named was Bethany. She died when I was thirteen and I cried for so long, my Aunt Dee swore she’d never let me get a pet again cause she couldn’t stand to see me unhappy. Now I just feed the neighborhood cats and that’s okay because I can pet them, but I know they’re not mine. So I don’t think I’d be too sad if they didn’t show up one day.
I still miss Aunt Dee, and she died five years ago. She was old and she told me she was ready to go and that I shouldn’t be sad. It still hurts.
I usually sleep from three in the afternoon till ten. But that day it was hard to get to sleep because I was thinking about Michael. I decided to go in early see him. I got to work at ten o’clock.
Michael was sleeping. The sound of the machine that helped him breathe was very relaxing. There was still dried blood around his nose. It made him look dead so I carefully washed it off.
“How are you today, Michael?” I asked him as I worked. “Your nose is pretty swollen. I’ll try to be gentle.”
“He can’t hear you,” Mr. Howser said loudly. “He’s in a coma.”
Cats and birds and other animals couldn’t understand me either, but that didn’t mean they didn’t like hearing your voice. I didn’t tell that to Mr. Howser. Michael looked less scary once I’d gotten all the blood off.
Sharon pulled me aside when she came in. Her round, brown face was very serious.
“Jonesy, you know that patient in C14, Michael Havers?”
“Yeah?”
Her lips pinched together. “They’re taking him off the ventilator at six a.m. The chaplain’s coming. I thought you might not want to be here. You can go home early if you want.”
“What? Why would they do that? He’s going to get better!”
Sharon shook her head in that disgusted way of hers. “His parents signed some papers saying we couldn’t use life support. And he’s not on their insurance. He doesn’t appear to have any insurance at all.”
I pulled away from her and ran to the bathroom. I barely made it to the toilet before I threw up.
No insurance. No life support.
They were going to kill him. They were going to kill Michael.
I knew he could live if they just gave him time. But they weren’t going to do that, those parents of his that should be sent to Mars. And if the family said no, the hospital had to do it, I guess, had to take him off the ventilator.
I was so upset; I could hardly work that night. I made my usual rounds, but every chance I had I’d go sit with Michael. He didn’t have anyone else. I didn’t either, really, but at least I had my work and my body wasn’t broken. I could take care of myself. He couldn’t. I wished I knew a lot of fancy laws or had the right thing to say to stop this from happening. But if the hospital was behind it, what could I do?
“I want to be there,” I told Sharon, “when they turn off the machine.”
“Oh, Jonesy!” She hugged me. “I don’t think you should do that, honey. You’re already so upset. Maybe it’s his time. Maybe Jesus is waiting for him with open arms and he needs to go.”
“It’s not his time,” I said, in what Aunt Dee called my stubborn voice. “And there’s nobody else to hold his hand.”
Sharon’s face scrunched up then and she waved a hand in front of it as if trying to air it out. She just shook her head as if she couldn’t speak and walked away. But I figured it would be okay for me to be there, because Sharon was almost as sad as I was.
The