OCR Text |
Show 387 Tears for Georgia "Suzanne?" It is a medical person whose voice I recognize from the hospital. Why would this person be calling me at home? "I shouldn't be calling you but I think you need to know," the voice is saying, then pauses, taking a deep breath as if to prop up something substantial. "Georgia died today." Georgia died? "When?" I am asking, my mind racing. But this person said 'today' and my asking "Why?" comes tumbling out. I had seen Georgia walking the hallways not too long ago when we were both there and while she did not look good, she was still walking, which should say something. It is impossible that she could have died. This cannot be. "She died peacefully," the voice is continuing, ignoring my shocked questions, and that phrase alone is making no sense to me. Did her pump overdose her? She has also had her pump turned back on recently. "No," the voice is continuing. "She just couldn't do it anymore. She asked us to turn off her pump. She had all treatment discontinued." |