APW: Le Repos (plus fiction) (497 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: APW
Rating: 1.92 on 16 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Susie Derkins (View user info) at 2006-08-09 16:18:47 EDT
"Are you still hungry?" asked the nurse, offering another tray of food. I shook my head and looked out the window at the bare trees. She shrugged and went to the next room. Bored with the hospital-supplied reading material, I decided to take my IV for a walk.
I halfheartedly greeted other patients and hospital staff that I passed. There was no point in learning names or making friends, we were all here for a specific reason which really eliminated the need or want for friendship. I stopped at a window in the lounge that overlooked the grounds. I admired what was to be my last sunset while a nurse appeared and fiddled with my IV connection.
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A few years ago, local officials became fed up with cleaning up after messy suicides and caring for the perpetrators of botched attempts. They decided to lobby to legalize medically assisted suicide. They got a lot of support from the clinically depressed and terminally ill, but strong opposition from concerned parents and right-to-lifers. After lengthy debate in Parliament, many protests, vigils and rallies, they voted to pass the bill last year. They allocated funding to hospitals to create special floors for those wishing to end their lives. They figured the money they'd save on investigations, cleanups and hospital care for do-it-yourselfers would more than pay for the changes.
The hospital would admit the patient and keep them for a week. In that time, they would be psychologically evaluated, counseled on alternatives to death and given time to think and decide if this is what they really wanted. They were allowed visitors, but only those cleared by the patient themselves. If, at the end of the week, you still wanted to die, they would administer a solution not chemically unlike what those on death row receive. It was made as quick and painless as possible. No muss, no fuss.
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I was admitted six days ago by force. A neighbour had seen me drive into my garage and close the door. The nosy bitch came over, heard the engine still running and pushed her way inside. She yanked me out of the driver's seat and threatened to call the cops if I didn't go to the hospital with her. Since the penalty for non-medically sanctioned suicide was ten years in prison on permanent suicide watch, I let her bring me in and commit me. That fucking cow.
My first evaluation was the afternoon I was brought in. I slumped in a chair across from Dr. Harris as he cheerfully asked me what brought me there.
"Lots of things." I replied sullenly.
"Please be specific. We need to properly assess you so that we can administer the correct treatment."
"The reasons for me wanting to die affect the kind of poison you inject? Come on." I snorted.
"Don't be hostile." He said, the false smile fading from his face slightly, "We're going to be counseling you all week, I need to know so we can offer other solutions for you."
"Don't bother. If I wanted 'other solutions', I wouldn't be here in the first place."
"Rules are rules, Miss Coupland."
"I knew I should have done this myself." I mumbled. "Then the job'd be done and I wouldn't have to..."
"It's illegal." His face was full on stern now.
"I give a shit?"
"Clearly you do. You're here instead of in your bathtub or the foot of a bridge."
I snorted again and played with the drawstring on my hospital-issue pajama pants. I decided not to tell the doctor the circumstances under which I was brought in. He would be legally obligated to call the police and I'd be sent to jail instead of here. Doctor-patient confidentiality my ass. I gave up and told him my reasons for wanting to end my life.
"My age has been weighing heavily on my mind for a few years now." I began, ignoring his smug look. "The closer I get to 30, the worse it seems to get. I can't see myself getting old. My body is already showing the signs and it's really been freaking me out.
"It's pretty sad at 28 years old that I feel my best years are already behind me, I'm past my prime, I've peaked. What's left on the road ahead? I work for the next 20 or 30 years, retire and wait to die? I'm not planning on having children; I've no prospect of marriage. So I'll be watching my body decay as my loved ones die around me. Sounds like a gas, doesn't it? I have no useful purpose here, so why bother continuing?"
As the week wore on, I refused all visitors. I had said my vague goodbyes to those that mattered. There was nothing more to say. I didn't want any part of their desperate pleas to stay alive, or their guilt trips about what a horrible, selfish person I was being. I did the psychological assessments, answered their daily probing questions and listened disinterestedly to their alternatives.
From the lounge window, I watched people going about their evenings. How do they all handle it? I was baffled that I was in here ready to die because I was getting older, and yet life goes on for them. What's wrong with me?
As the sun sunk beautifully below the horizon, I contemplated what was next. Afterlife? Reincarnation? I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what was next for "me". The image that returned to me was of utter nothingness, blacker than any night, devoid of any sound. My eyes flew open and I became dizzy. I was struck with another series of images: a montage of faces. My family, friends....I'm not going to see tomorrow.
"I'm not going to see tomorrow." I repeated the thought aloud, "I will never see any of these people again."
Why is this bothering me now? Why didn't I see any of this last week before all this shit happened? Why do I all of a sudden care what happens next for me or anyone else? Jesus, I'm so bloody tired. I can't do this, it's not my time yet. I grabbed my IV rack and stumbled to the nurse's station.
"I'm not ready!" I cried, "Not yet, I need more time to think. I'd like to be discharged."
The nurses looked at each other nervously.
"We can't do that." Said one.
"Don't worry," I slurred, "I'm not a threat, I won't go and kill myself on my own. I just said I'm not ready to die."
"It's not that, dear. It's too late." I froze as the room seemed to spin faster. What does she mean it's too late?
"But...I have another day. I wasn't supposed to die until tomorrow. Seven days! I had SEVEN DAYS! It's only been 6."
"Technically, this is the end of your 6th day." Said the other nurse, who suddenly multiplied. I closed my eyes and dry heaved.
"Who fu....God! Who fucking cares? It's still not the seventh day! How can it be too late? I haven't been given the injection yet!"
"Honey," said the first nurse as I slumped against the counter, "What do you think was in the new IV bag I hooked up a few minutes ago?"
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"Le Repos" by Pablo Picasso, painted in 1932 of his lover Marie-Therese in blissful sleep.
User Reviews
Submitted by HighVoltage900 (user info) at 2006-08-18 13:06:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'M RATING IT! YOU CAN STOP THREATENING MY FAMILY NOW!
Submitted by ColchesterDr (user info) at 2006-08-10 02:27:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-08-10 02:05:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Susie_Derkins (user info) at 2006-08-09 18:47:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-08-09 18:08:57 (#)
Ranking: 2
DOH!
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That's an accurate summary. Thanks for all your comments, I wasn't sure this would go over well.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-08-09 18:08:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
DOH!
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2006-08-09 17:51:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent work!
Submitted by MyTeeOne (user info) at 2006-08-09 17:35:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I really liked this story. Nice little twist
Submitted by Life101 (user info) at 2006-08-09 16:34:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was great
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2006-08-09 16:27:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Solent Green is sheeple who didn't fight back!
Good stuff.
Submitted by alwayspeach1 (user info) at 2006-08-09 16:24:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I like this but I'm not sure why.
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-08-09 16:24:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Speak to the woman nicely, Maltese.
Submitted by GodChicken (user info) at 2006-08-09 16:23:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by icarus1987 (user info) at 2006-08-09 16:23:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Being almost 30 sucks. But then my wife is nowhere NEAR 30, so it's cool.
Submitted by UnderOathMeal (user info) at 2006-08-09 16:20:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
I know there's a boob in that pic somewhere ... somewhere ...
*masturbates*
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-08-09 16:19:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'll get to the story in a minute, but have a +2 because I can't not see a woman grasping after a penos coming out of a glory hole.
Submitted by Maltese (user info) at 2006-08-09 16:19:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Brilliant. Now suck my cock.