I always admired the world, and how you could destroy or create anything you wanted. You could look out the window of the car and see the trees passing by or look to the side and see the cars slowly creeping up. The trees are the living things created by the earth we live on, and the cars are the machines humans created to get around. I always loved hearing the birds, chirping away on an early morning run for coffee. I guess I started to appreciate everything after knowing I won't have anything left. Traveling to and from the hospital where life ends and begins. Does anyone ever refer to a hospital as a death hotspot? Maybe everyone just stays positive, trying to hope for the best for their loved ones. Whether it was an accident or a genetic mutation they had no control over, even just something you were born with slowly killing you from the inside.
I was fortunate enough to be born normal, well I guess that sounds bad, but in this case, I can't say the same thing about my wife. A woman I had known since I was 15, the love of my life. I'd never known a woman like her, someone who looked at ugly things and called them beautiful. Someone who instead of partying in college, chose to spend her time in the library curled up with a book. How could something so deadly, happen to such an amazing person?
Every day I go to work, spending hours trying to focus on something I don't care about. Then I leave and pick up clean clothes from the house before heading back to the hospital to see my dying wife, and every single day I see her pale body lying in the same position, in the same bed, in the same room. Her once bubbly personality was reduced to a silent sleep. She's been in a coma for 6 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days. A brain tumor slowly killed her. It hit her out of nowhere and all of a sudden, we were in this situation. I sit by her side, my hand holding her frail one. I could sit here and cry like I normally do, sit here and ask the world why this is happening, but I don't. I don't know why but I just can't. As I sit here and watch the monitor beep, my wife's heartbeat seen on the screen, I just go numb. There's nothing left of her, she's been gone for a while. Her heart may be beating but there's no Molly.
One machine breathes for her, one machine hooked up to a screen shows everyone that her heart is still beating. Nurses come in and out of the room a couple of times a day to check the machines, monitor her brain activity, if any, and clean her. She has a bag hanging beside her bed feeding her liquid nutrients. Is it worth it... to see her like this? Is it worth being able to touch her even if she can't touch back? Is it worth being able to see her face every day, even if she can't smile or look me in the eyes? No...
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP flatline
Gone
