What Would You Do if I Died Tonight?

Beep, Beep, Silence

The beeping of the heart monitor echoes in your ears. You can’t control your body. You cannot open your eyes. Everything is black. You can feel a tube in your mouth. You can feel the foreign object pulsing as it pumps air into your lungs. Up and down. Your chest is moving. Inhale. Exhale. You can feel it. No, you can’t. You suddenly realise that you can’t feel your chest inhaling and exhaling. You try to move again. You can’t. You struggle to lift a finger. You are fighting. Nothing. Panic begins to set in. You ask yourself, “Where am I? What happened? Am I in a hospital? Why can’t I move? Why can’t I remember anything?”

Suddenly, you become aware of another presence beside you. A familiar voice reaches your ears. It is the sweet and soft voice of your mother, but it is full of fear. She is talking to someone else. You try to determine who. You struggle. You struggle to hear. But you don’t recognise it. It is male. The doctor perhaps? You can only grasp a few whispering words. ‘Concussion… car… accident… brain dead… think… rest…’ Wait. You go back to the words brain dead. You rapidly think, “Who was brain dead? The other people? Which other people?” You panic. You realise it is you. They are saying you are brain dead. You are gone. Your mind wanders around different scenarios on what could have happened. But you can’t find one. You can’t remember. Everything becomes a blur. You are suddenly riddled with pain. You begin to feel.

You feel the pain at the back of your neck. Running down your back. Spreading out into every limb. Stabbing pain; like a million needles piercing your skin at once. You want to scream. Relieve the pain. You are screaming out in your head. But not even a whisper escapes your lips. The pain begins to overwhelm you. Every nerve is screeching in agony. You can’t take it. The pain is unbearable. You plunge out of consciousness. Black.

***

You feel the wet, tender tears of someone upon your motionless face as you regain a state of awareness. The muffled voice of man washes over your consciousness. Your brother perhaps? Your father? Who? The sobbing overpowers the words. You can’t understand what they are saying. You get the surreal feeling that your arm is being elevated. You can’t feel anything. No pain. No movement. You just know something in its position has changed. It feels as if your arm is dangling in mid air. Your sweet mother’s voice in heard over the sobbing.

“Quiet Jason! Alex is gone.”

“No. Alex is there. I know it.”

You realise it is your father. He is standing above your head. His hand is pressed towards your forehead.

“There is nothing there. Alex is dead.”

“I don’t believe it. I won’t believe it. The doctors are wrong.”

“We have got to make a decision.”

“No. I won’t do it.”

“You have to. If Alex is gone, we are just wasting space by keeping the life support going.”

“…”

“It is time to let go. Think about it. Someone who could actually survive could use this bed. Alex is gone.”

Your hand is lowered. Your father’s hand leaves your forehead. You suddenly feel alone. Isolated.

You try to process the conversation you just heard. You struggle to make sense of it. Your family believes that you are gone. You are dead. They don’t believe you can recover. They want to kill you. Did you mean nothing to them? They have lost hope in you. They are losing you. You have lost them.

A continuous stream of doubt clouds your mind. Emotional pain consumes you – the constant, dull, burning sensation of your nerves – to sway you out of consciousness.

***

You become aware you are not alone. You feel surrounded. You feel pressure on your legs and arms. People are touching you. You desire to know who. Who is holding you? You crave to feel them touch you. You wish to be relieved of the pain which riddles you. You hear sobbing. You hear breathing. You hear the voice of a stranger praying – praying your song will be carried to heaven. You begin to panic. You struggle with the thought. ‘This cannot be it. They are going to do it. They are going to kill me. I don’t want to die. God help me!’

But it is too late. The decision has been made for you. You are going to die. You can’t wake up. You try. You struggle to just move a finger. But the burning sensation, the stabbing sensation progressively escalates when you try. You lay there – still, motionless.  Not even a tear is shed from your eye. You have no control. You are essentially dead to them. You understand why they would kill you, why they would turn off the machine keeping you alive. But, is what you’re experiencing life? You can’t move. You can’t speak. You can’t eat. You can’t breathe by yourself. You are dead. You present no sign of life to the outside world.

It is time. You have heard the conversations come to a close. You know this is it. Your final moments. You are waiting to die. You are waiting for the switch to be flipped. You are waiting to leave. You are waiting to be relieved from your pain. You prepare yourself. But you can’t. Who wants to die? You don’t want to die. You want to live. You want to be alive – you are alive.

You hear the heart monitor slowing. Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep. Silence.

• What you said: I'm from Australia
• What they heard: G'day mate, crikey this weather's crazy. I'll put another shrimp on the barbie after I ride my kangaroo, stone the flamin crows mate I think a dingo ate my baby.