The Love That Binds Us

Anna-Marie

~~~~~

She told me that she loved me.
She told me that everything would be okay.
She told me to let go.
So I did.

~~~~~

Flatline

The bright green line on the monitor beside my bed flat lined with a merciless squeal, replacing the relentless beeping that had previously echoed around the tiny hospital room, and the brassy alarm above the bed began to ring out in the corridor. Before my family could move, medical staff swarmed the room. The doctor I recognised from my treatments was the first into the room; he was a tall man that had an air of authority about him. Well, that's what my mother had always said anyway; personally I think it was just the white coat that was intimidating. Two nurses that had been caring for me during my sporadic stays in hospital were next and the ward sister came bustling in behind them. Talk about were they all waiting for this. My Aunt Lisa was last, she barely made it through the door before she near on collapsed against the wooden door frame, she'd only been here just over a week; she lived in Canada now, so had struggled to get here when I had been rushed into hospital. She hadn't gotten to say goodbye and I knew she would never forgive herself for that. Not that she hadn't technically already said her goodbyes; it had started to get depressing - every time she'd said goodbye in the last year or so after visiting had been in that way, I knew she had been edging her bets in case she never saw me again; well alive anyway. Talk about how to get a dying girl down.

Now, they all crowded the bed as my mother's deafening howl of grief pierced the otherwise quiet that had descended upon the occupants of my room. No-one moved, other than my father, who held my mother while she sobbed hysterically onto his broad shoulder. We all knew that this was how it would end; my father had agreed to the DNR over two weeks ago and my mother had finally signed the consent form last weekend when her sister had arrived and talked some sense into her. I wasn't going to wake up from this; it was cruel to keep everyone hanging around. They needed to move on with their lives.

'Time of death, eighteen forty two,' a deep male voice said; the doctor.
The awful squealing of the monitor ceased and the alarm above my bed was turned off.

This time, the sob that escaped my mother sounded like the strangled cry of a dying parent. I guess that was a fitting description, a part of her had just died with me. A part of her would never recover from this. But the rest of her, she needed to pick up and get through this, for my sisters, for my brother. I only hoped that my father was strong enough for the both of them until she found the strength she needed for this monumental journey that lay ahead of her.

I watched as people slowly filtered back out of the room, a murmur of condolences rippling through them, before they left my family to grieve in peace. The truth of it was though, that they had already done most of their grieving; they'd had to come to terms with the idea of losing me a long time ago, but this was different. It was real now. This was only the beginning of the pain that they would now have to deal with every day. Talk about depressing. I'd been laid in that bed for eight weeks nearly, after only two of them I had started to drift in and out of consciousness, my lucid periods becoming less often and more incoherent each time. Until three weeks ago my brain, exhausted as it was, had finally caught up with my body and given up on me. Since then, my body had lain there peacefully, the pain had still been there, don’t get me wrong, but there had been no fight left in me.

Now, there was no pain left.
She'd said it would all be okay, and she was right.

I stood by my bed, looking down at my former body - weirdest feeling ever I can tell you. My skin was so pale I was almost translucent, the colour had long since drained from the rosy red cheeks that I'd had as a toddler. My hair was dull and lifeless where before it had been full of tight curls that bounced when I ran, laughing with my sister and brother. The beautiful flame red that had once been the envy of all the parents of children in my class could now barely be classified as red; the mundane wishy-washy caramel colour made my already ashen features look worse. The life in me had been torn from my body ounce by ounce until there was nothing left to take from me. I had fought with everything I had for as long as I could. Five years I'd tried to fight this, and for three of them I'd had to watch as this wretched disease had slowly taken over my body. I'd had a good run though.

I let my eyes travel to the hand that still held mine. I'd tried not to look at her, I really had, it hurt too much, but I couldn’t not look now. The true irony that stared back at me was uncanny, she was the perfect version of me, the healthy version of me. Lily sat soundlessly stroking my arm, the tears streaming down her face in silent anguish. No-one, not even my mother, could understand how she was feeling right now. Lily and I were a part of each other; the unbreakable bond that linked us was one that even death wouldn’t sever. Lily now had to live out the rest of her long and healthy life with the other half of her missing; I didn’t even want to begin to think about how she must be feeling. I don’t think I could have done it if this situation were reversed. She'd been my rock, she'd got me this far. Without her I would have given up long before now. I'd fought for her.

~~~~~

She told me that she loved me.
She told me that everything would be okay.
She told me to let go.
So I did.

Now I was free.

~~~~~