galaxy42

The Big Blog O' Death

At 3:15am I got a very strange text message from my friend in Portland: "Call Susan. Now. Do it."

I got on the phone and punched up her number--he answered and mumbled something that I didn't quite catch before passing it off to her. She said hello, and her voice sounded weak. I could hear her sniffing back some tears. She had just gotten off the phone with her sister. Their mother has taken a turn for the worst, and isn't expected to make it to morning.

I could feel this coming.

Only a day or two ago, she had told me that her mom was improving. That's when I knew that it wouldn't be a week before she was gone. She was in what I call the "Rally of the Dead". I've noticed that, just before the final curtain in terminally ill patients, a lot of them seem to have a short burst of progress in their health. Granted, I couldn't know for sure that this was what was happening... but I had a very strong sense that it was.

I don't like the helpless feeling that comes with trying to comfort a good friend at such a distance. I said all the things you're supposed to say in a time like this. Offered up the "if there's anything I can do..." bit and felt like a putz doing it. I know there isn't a damn thing I can do.

Helpless...