you can deal with whatever life brings you,
and when death comes you are ready.
I AM NOT READY TO DIE!
At l00 hours Friday morning, the moment my head his the pillow, my nose started to bleed. A few minutes later Dianne asked if there was anything wrong. I said, yes i have a bloody nose. I could tell right away that this was a bad one. But i had handled bad nosebleeds before. As a last resort, i could always drive myself to the hospital, and "they would fix it". In fact, on at least three occasions a nosebleed stopped the second i entered a clinic or doctor's waiting room. Talk about medical miracles.
After about two hours of futile efforts to stop the bleed i but the phone beside Dianne in the bed and told her i was going to have to go to the emergency room to get my nose fixed again. She said fine, go, so i went. The ER physician immediately saw that he could do nothing for the bleeding and called the ENT surgeon on call and i was ushered into an operating room. At 530 hours i awoke in the Intensive Care Unit with what felt like three/quarter inch steel pipe rammed down my throat to who knows where. I could not speak but my outrage over this intrusion into my body was evident. I was told that artery had burst and had been cauterized. I later learned that in addition to the two units of blood i was given on Saturday, i had had three units pumped into me during and immediately after the surgery. Dianne was kept informed by the hospital of what was going on. She called our older daughter who came over to be with her, It is now Sunday afternoon and i am safely back home, but with a persistent cough and a very painful belly when i cough,
One of the many good people in charge of my care is a PhD candidate in Nursing (Administration?) and doing her dissertation as a study of burnout among Idaho Nurses. I had occasion to tell of the dialogue between Ivan and Zazimov (inThe Brothers Karamazov) in which Ivan is trying to defend himself as a caring person. I would have become a nurse, he said, were it not for the fact the patients are so damned ungrateful. The Monk responds in a line treasured by Dorothy Day: "Compared to love in dreams, my son, love in life is a harsh and dreadful thing.
Death experiences are supposed to promote spiritual growth. Near death experiences? Not quite so much, It is difficult to put my life into the hands of other people and hope that they care about it as much as i do, I did not well hear the many messages of compassion that were directed toward me. The reason for this of course is that my life is still about me, not about others or the world,