There just might be something worse than death, watching your own son drunk and taunting you with his friends and swearing and cursing you.
You lie unable to move except for brief jerky in-coordinated movements. You can’t even lift your head off the pillow - only turn your head and let the tears soak your pillow. Can’t even swallow. Tubes out of every orifice, you can’t even speak, even to beg for death and its blessed oblivion. Just to lie helpless and watch the waves of hatred, contempt and pity mixed with disgust radiate off your only son.
Today I watched this happen in my hospital. Watched all this and I wonder if euthanasia is such a bad thing.
I’m ok. I don’t even know if I am very horrendously mentally traumatized. I’ll go to sleep soon, and if no patients come, sleep the night, though I wonder if that man will sleep tonight or any other night. His son just left him there all alone. Drunk, has ridden away on his bike. I doubt if he will stay awake long enough to get where he is going.
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