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Show Moon - 211 to the end. You must not let sick people know you think they're so far gone that the mere sight of them, the mere words "happy birthday" should make you burst into tears. I now believe this holding back is wrong. When I am dying or , even if I'm not dying but am lucky enough to have someone in my life who is afraid I might, I want that someone to weep for me, to weep for both of us. I think then I could go on to the next leg of the journey and begin to like the idea. No one helped you with this. Forgive us. The famous doctor came into the room. He was overweight and one of his eyelids quivered, but the sight of him fired up my hopes all over again. He was maybe discovering The Cure. He would talk to us. There were things to be discussed, understood. He pulled a walker out of the corner. He checked the urine bag fastened to your leg, then untied you, stood you inside the walker, and set you to work. "Go out into the hall," he said, "to the end and back." Thus dismissed, you bent over the walker and shuffled out the door, smiling abstractedly. "There's a lot of emotional disturbance here," the good doctor said. I waited for him to go on, to tell me what one did for the emotional disturbance. "Her eyesight has returned, though we can't say for how long. Her urinary infection is almost cleared up, but she isn't very strong." "What are you doing for her?" I hoped it didn't sound like a challenge. I was shy around doctors then. He moved to the foot of your bed, picked up your chart. "Megavitamins, Librium, special diet, no fats, no sugar, no caffeine. Antibiotics, lots of fluids." He |
