I’ve used the word privilege before when talking about being a doctor, because there are many privileges afforded the medical profession. Doctors share people’s lives in a way few other professions do. We witness intimate and private moments normally shielded from strangers.
We witness women in labour, when they’re at their most vulnerable, followed by the ecstasy of birth and the beginnings of a new life.
But even more special than that, I believe, is witnessing a person’s death—the moment someone takes their last breath, the moment their heart stops beating. The moment you realise the person is still and will not breathe again. Death itself, though, is more a process than a moment—a slowing, an easing, a gradual passage from alive to not alive. And when it comes, the stillness is almost a comfort.
It’s a privilege to share.
Perhaps this is unrelated, or not in entire keeping to the subject; but my epilepsy strikes each time unexpected and with the shock of mortality. You know, intellectually, you are prone to seizures, but they are always sudden as a fall to an unprovoked attack. Caesar was epileptic and Alexander. What every individual who has epilepsy can tell you is that Caesar, long before climbing the steps to the Capitol with misplaced trust, had experienced betrayal before.
How long since we changed the oil?
When I seizure, I’m confused. I
never told a soul until I met you. I was
afraid of small towns; by force
of will I begged sometimes to be
excused. Grand mal. you said, it
sounds so lovely; it sounds like
a painting Sargent might make
of Venetian canals. Let’s walk
starling, you said, and if
you drop, I’ll stop mid- flight
to dip in foam.
Seizures are frightening. Our son used to have febrile convulsions—we got to know when one was coming on as he’d go unresponsive, then his eyes would roll and he’d fit and stop breathing. His lips turned blue each time so that he looked dead. I used to try to be the doctor while they were happening, but all I wanted to do was panic like the mother that I was (see my previous post). Afterwards, I’d collapse in floods of tears and ‘What if’s’.
I didn’t know Caesar had epilepsy, nor Alexander. It is a frightening condition for all sorts of reasons, not the least of which must be not knowing when one is going to come on …
I love your poem—that the narrator found someone they could trust, who was willing to fly beside and catch them when needed. And I had a giggle at ‘Grand Mal’ referring to a Sargent painting of a Venetian canal!
Once again, thanks so much for your comment, Charles.
Thank you, and I’m very sorry for your experience of terror as a parent.
Thanks. It’s passed now and he hasn’t had one for years. I’m sorry for you that yours has continued. I’m glad you can write about it.
http://bostonpoetry.wordpress.com/2014/07/17/the-falling-sickness/
Thank you for sharing this, Charles. It’s one of those medical conditions that people kept/keep hidden for reasons I don’t understand. Why was/is there a stigma about it? Is it because it’s to do with the brain? I do think the stigma has lessened with better education of the public, but not talking about these things is something I’ll never understand …
Believe it or not Louise, those words are very comforting to me. It’s a unique and educated way of viewing death. Food for thought.
Thanks, Pinky. I have many things I could say but I won’t start an essay in the comments! Most deaths I’ve seen have been welcomed by the person who is dying—I’m not talking about young people taken suddenly and too early, but ones that come after a long illness.
Death comes to us all and I don’t see the point in fighting or fearing it. (Having said that, I do have many irrational fears, but death isn’t one of them.) You and I will leave a bit of ourselves through our children, and now through our words, which will outlive us, for better or for worse!
OK here’s my stab at poetry
(its written while I’m eating M&Ms)
At birth all is new,
we need guidance and love
So too in death.
In both we seek comfort in the love
that surrounds.
I love it, Penny. And I’ve made it into a ‘snapshot’. Hopefully, this link will work if you click here.