The Circle of Life - Death

The phrase “unplanned death” makes no sense. Every death is planned, maybe not by the one who is dying but planned nonetheless. I think instead of unplanned death, it should be called unconsciously planned death. A man who dies in a car accident wasn’t the victim of an unplanned death, from the moment he bought the car. . . his death was planned.

It took me three weeks of meticulous planning. Three weeks of watching and waiting. Three weeks and I found him. He was just perfect. The right height, the right weight, the right build. . . just perfect. He had been a little suspicious when I first approached but he quickly dismissed “Just a girl” I could almost hear him say. We talked. . . well I did the talking at first but by our 3rd meeting, he opened up. I brought him canned apricots and a loaf of bread. He eat it all in one sitting and then apologized. He’d not had fresh bread in years, he said. . . I told him I understood. He told me about himself over milk and cookies. . . I baked them and I listened attentively. A veteran he said he was, served his country like a good citizen but lost himself in the process. Over a cup of freshly squeezed orange juice, he asked me why I was doing this. I’m a doctor, I replied matter of factly, it is my job to end suffering and pain. Thank you very much he said, my pleasure I answered.

He trusted me.

It was time.

I chose a weekend. . . I wanted to savor it.

Friday - Woke up as usual, went to work, did my rounds, wrote my notes like the good doctor I was. A package came for me, it was the ulcer meds I had ordered 2 days before. I made a phone call, it’s here I told him, come over tonight and get them. I gave the nurses instructions for the patient in bed 8. If her temperature rises above 100, page me. With my purse in hand, I walked out of the hospital.

At home, I did my yoga. No sooner had I finished that the bell rang. I opened the door and he walked in, no hi or how was your day, just another tirade about not being careful, opening the door without asking who it was. He could have been anyone he ranted. I wasn’t expecting anyone, I retorted casually, I was expecting him. He scrunched his face up and I laughed and grabbed the pills out of my purse, handed it to him. . . once a day, instructed firmly. Yes mum, he answered, rolling his eyes. He ripped it open and swallowed one. Any big plans for the weekend? He asked. I thought for a sec and replied nothing big. I didn’t have to ask, If he had any plans . . . apart from the occasional golf with a few acquaintances, he never did. I turned on the TV. When Harry Met Sally was Playing, we sat back to watch.

By the time Harry and Sally said their I love Yous, he was already asleep. I looked at the time; it was 15 minutes to 10. I tapped him gently, only his head moved. I put his arm on my shoulder, grabbed him by the waist hoisted him up. He opened his eyes, smiled and mumbled something about chocolate syrup before shutting his eyes again. I laughed and slowly helped him to the bathroom and managed to dump him in the tub. I looked at my watch again, it was 10 on the dot. He sprawled in the bathtub like a baby in the crib. I move closer to make sure he wasn’t pretending. Satisfied, I walked out the bathroom and quietly shut the door. I grabbed my jacket and keys and left the apartment.