Thursday morning I was sort of in and out of sleep�and there was this rattle.� When I finally attempted to move, a delicate balance was disturbed.� My�bloody lungs�tried to expell something – maybe�Sigourney Weaver’s nightmare.� It hurt badly, and I stayed home to huddle in my bed, praying that the rattle woud go away.�
It did, with the help of the regimen of cold remedies Sherry put me on (mostly frequent horse tablets of Vitamin C – though echinacea and Black Berry Brandy were suggested by a student).
Did my life flash before my eyes?� Did I enter the blue tunnel or hear the purple hum?� Did I contemplate the hereafter?� If I knew what was good for me, I would have done equal portions of all three, but I did none of that.� After taking care of some business over the phone, I slept until noon, and that’s when I started feeling better.� Out in the great world were I was supposed to be, things were going on as they should have (thanks Sherry, thanks Amy Jo, thanks to many others).
My own death is not something I contemplate too often, even when it stares me in the face, or rumbles in my ears.
If this non-obsession with death is abnormal or unhealthy, please let me know, along with the number of a good therapist.� Until then, may your own rattles be brief, and remind you that whatever monumental tasks you have to do that day either aren’t so monumental, or will get done without you (thanks to great people).
Way to milk the sickness for a blog post! Well done.
I suspect you were able to ignore death this time around because, um, death wasn’t imminent.
Just speculating.
Remember in college the class that covered the metaphysical poets? George Herbert, and John Dunne? There was this thing ars moriendi, or the art of dying well. I’ve always been intrigued by that idea. I hope when my time comes I have some semblance of dignity. I’m afraid, though, the grim reaper will drag me kicking and screaming…
So what do you think would be better: A time of contemplating one’s imminent death, or sudden death (VTech)? This is another thing I think about often. Someone said, and that probably on a reality tv show, that “ghosts” are a result of sudden death. Ie. it takes awhile for the soul, or spirit to realize the body’s dead when the injury is sudden or instantaneous.
Another thing: I sort of envy those people that I hear of as having died. Their ordeal is over. The unknown is known. The apprehension is done…
ya know? Hmmm?