Money
Holding a woman that I care about for several hours while she screams and gasps in pain.
Watching the carelessness of doctors eating away the life before me like an Alcheseltzer in a glass of water.
Some of you have personal experience of being with loved ones who are slowly dying, suffering in your arms, wasting away before you. You know that particular consistency of pain. For this I am sorry.
One day a week I work as a care giver for a woman who suffers from very advanced Multiple Sclerosis . She is now a quadriplegic. Doctors started giving her morphine when they didn't need to, and she is now addicted to it. Sometimes, accidents happen and she doesn't get the proper meds which means that she suffers some of the most excruciating pain known to the medical world - withdrawl. Tonight, I had the duty, and the honor, of being with her through several hours of that.
What I did tonight is not worth any amount of money. And yet I found myself being handed my check and sent on my way. Ha! A check! And images. And sounds. Her pain crazed eyes whilst her screaming voice lurches and echos in my mind: "I CAN'T TAKE ANY MORE! I don't deserve this .. please - MAKE IT STOP!!!". Locking my eyes with her insanity ridden glare of desperation, willing my voice to be strong, drawing her back from her endless maze of panic. Over and over I hear myself say "You CAN take this, Lorrie, and you will. Because I cannot help you. We can only wait till your (time release) pills kick in. Be strong. Breath."
And now I am home, and yet I still hold her tightly and watch the seizing pain again and again rack her body that would thrash if only it could.
And inside I laugh a hollow laugh. For what else can I do?
Watching the carelessness of doctors eating away the life before me like an Alcheseltzer in a glass of water.
Some of you have personal experience of being with loved ones who are slowly dying, suffering in your arms, wasting away before you. You know that particular consistency of pain. For this I am sorry.
One day a week I work as a care giver for a woman who suffers from very advanced Multiple Sclerosis . She is now a quadriplegic. Doctors started giving her morphine when they didn't need to, and she is now addicted to it. Sometimes, accidents happen and she doesn't get the proper meds which means that she suffers some of the most excruciating pain known to the medical world - withdrawl. Tonight, I had the duty, and the honor, of being with her through several hours of that.
What I did tonight is not worth any amount of money. And yet I found myself being handed my check and sent on my way. Ha! A check! And images. And sounds. Her pain crazed eyes whilst her screaming voice lurches and echos in my mind: "I CAN'T TAKE ANY MORE! I don't deserve this .. please - MAKE IT STOP!!!". Locking my eyes with her insanity ridden glare of desperation, willing my voice to be strong, drawing her back from her endless maze of panic. Over and over I hear myself say "You CAN take this, Lorrie, and you will. Because I cannot help you. We can only wait till your (time release) pills kick in. Be strong. Breath."
And now I am home, and yet I still hold her tightly and watch the seizing pain again and again rack her body that would thrash if only it could.
And inside I laugh a hollow laugh. For what else can I do?