I am dying, the surgeon screwed up

By Counsel Daphine Kamurungi

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I have been lying in this hospital bed for a while now. The doctors say I am out of the woods but I don’t feel anywhere near stable. In fact, I feel much worse than I was before the operation. I think the surgeon screwed up somewhere, I have watched enough House and Grey’s Anatomy to know that everything is not what it seems.

I can hear most of the conversations that take place in the room that I am in but I can’t partake. For some reason, I can’t seem to make any part of my body move and it is frustrating. I want to be able to tell these doctors that they screwed up somewhere and I am dying, I want to be able to return the squeeze that my husband gives my hand every time he is alone in the room with me or the hugs my two beautiful children give me when they come to visit.

I am dying and that is a fact. The beauty is, I have no regrets. I have lived a happy life – a good family, good friends, pursued my childhood dream of becoming a lawyer, and married the man I never thought I deserved.

Michael has been everything a woman could ever dream of. He is my second love, he made me believe in love again after I had been destroyed by my first love. I remember silently vowing that I would never make him cry…. It breaks me that I sometimes hear him sobbing. I think he can also feel that I am drifting away. I feel I have let him and our children down.

I keep drifting in and out of comma. I fear I don’t have long.

On several occasions I have felt this excruciating pain in my chest, like something is crawling up towards my heart and today, it seems to be worse. I now have no doubt that the surgeon forgot something of his in my chest. The accident hadn’t been that bad. I should be home now recovering but instead I am dying.

I can’t hold on any longer. I am drowning in my own blood, the pain is worse; I hear commotion; someone asking for a crash cart, another telling Michael to leave the room. Time is up! I can feel it, Michael is holding my hand and begging the doctors to do something but I know they don’t have anything more they can do. They have killed me.

I master all the strength I have left in my body and squeeze his hand… The room is quiet. The pain is gone and I am at peace.