Breaking it down - no breakdown

Published

I have been the attendant at so many deaths lately it is starting to weigh on me a little bit. I've been stuck with this imagery for a few months now and want to share it to unload a little.

For background I am an adult ICU nurse. I do not attend the deaths of littles. At the end of life every body I look down upon in the bed I picture as a babe in some mother's arms or a little kid again. At the end of life it all looks like a seamless, backwards to forwards and backwards again progression through the lifestages.

So weird.

Anyway, thank you for letting me share.

I stand in the middle of the room

A navy blue badge-wearing Christo Redentor

The boy lying at the precipice

A thin line between here and not here

Behind a closed curtain around a hospital bed

Like an old vinyl change purse

The sort my grandpa handed out for loose coins

I open and shafts of light shoot forth

Pieces lost to the family standing vigil over the boy

I do this willingly and I have no choice

The weight threatens to put me on my knees so I stand

White socks poking through rubbed away toes

As the boy in the bed opens his mouth at last

A slow quiet stream of Charon's air slips by

The vigil is ended and I open the curtain

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