26 Jun '14 00:03>
Originally posted by Sicilian SausageMay rest is better
I have atoned for my sins and righted my wrongs. You can now rest, my child.
Originally posted by SeitseAshes to ashes
I cry entangled tears
borrowed from a blistering light;
'hold me tight' she said
as her wings were shattered.
This poem by Darth Vader made me reflect on what we're talking about here.
Originally posted by SeitseOh, yes...
I've been brushed by death. Really. Due to personal reasons, I've spent months without end at a hospice ward, seeing people walking the last meters or actually passing, right next to me --I mean, in the next bed, in front of my eyes.
So, death has turned into a kind of non-subject for me, something which will happen with or without my consent, and a thing ...[text shortened]... t know why. It's kind of confusing.
Has any of you experienced something like this? Thoughts?
Originally posted by SeitseSeitse, I'm so pleased that you're back.
I've been brushed by death. Really. Due to personal reasons, I've spent months without end at a hospice ward, seeing people walking the last meters or actually passing, right next to me --I mean, in the next bed, in front of my eyes.
So, death has turned into a kind of non-subject for me, something which will happen with or without my consent, and a thing ...[text shortened]... t know why. It's kind of confusing.
Has any of you experienced something like this? Thoughts?
Originally posted by SeitseIt's mutual, mon frère. "I've spent months without end at a hospice ward, seeing people walking the last meters or actually passing, right next to me --I mean, in the next bed, in front of my eyes." Your original post mirrors my own sixteen month confinement in a medical care/rehab facility following partial paralysis Friday, December 2010; discharge April 2012.
Thanks, friend, your kind words mean a lot to me.
Originally posted by Grampy BobbyOriginally posted by Grampy Bobby
An Assistant Director of Nursing at the Rehab Care Facility (where I was confined for sixteen months) was routinely making her rounds one weekday afternoon. At the Nursing Station #3, while checking patient logs, Larissa who was the picture of health and fitness suddenly began swaying front to back then from side to side; within seconds she crumpled to th ...[text shortened]... roke, having departed this life in her mid-thirties the previous evening with family at her bedside.